- — "f\*t  o-y-Y^* 

U  <&2-<r^  *J '***-» 


THE 

LOVE  AFFAIRS  OF  AN  OLD  MAID 


LILIAN    BELL 


1  Some  ships  reach  happy  ports  that  are  not  stc-ered" 


NEW     YORK 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1893,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 


All  rights  reserved. 


De&tcatlon 

This  book  is  dedicated  very  fondly  to  my  beloved  family, 
who,  in  their  anxiety  to  render  me  material  assistance,  have 
offered  me  such  diverse  opinions  as  to  its  merit  that  their 
criticisms  radiate  from  me  in  as  many  directions  as  there  are 
spokes  to  a  wheel. 

This  leaves  the  distraught  hub  with  no  opinion  of  its  own, 
and  with  flaring,  ragged  edges. 

Nevertheless,  thus  must  it  appear  before  the  public,  whose 
opinion  will  be  the  tire  which  shall  enable  my  wheel  to  revolve. 
If  it  be  favorable,  one  may  look  for  smooth  riding ;  if  unfavor 
able,  one  must  expect  jolts. 


PREFACE 

IT  is  a  pity  that  there  is  no  prettier  term 
to  bestow  upon  a  girl  bachelor  of  any  age 
than  Old  Maid.  "Spinster"  is  equally 
uncomfortable,  suggesting,  as  it  does,  cork 
screw  curls  and  immoderate  attenuation  of 
frame;  while  "maiden  lady,"  which  the 
ultra-punctilious  substitute,  is  entirely  too 
mincing  for  sensible,  whole-souled  people 
to  countenance. 

I  dare  say  that  more  women  would  have 
the  courage  to  remain  unmarried  were  there 
so  euphonious  a  title  awaiting  them  as  that 
of  "  bachelor,"  which,  when  shorn  of  its  ac 
companying  adjective  "  old,"  simply  means 
unmarried. 

The  word  "  bachelor,"  too,  has  somewhat 
of  a  jaunty  sound,  implying  to  the  sensitive 


vi  PREFACE 

ear  that  its  owner  could  have  been  married 
— oh,  several  times  over — if  he  had  wished. 
But  both  "  spinster  "  and  "  old  maid  "  have 
narrow,  restricted  attributes,  which,  to  say 
the  least,  imply  doubt  as  to  past  opportu 
nity. 

Names  are  covertly  responsible  for  many 
overt  acts.  Carlyle,  when  he  said,  "The 
name  is  the  earliest  garment  you  wrap 
around  the  earth -visiting  me.  Names? 
Not  only  all  common  speech,  but  Science, 
Poetry  itself,  if  thou  consider  it,  is  no  other 
than  a  right  naming,"  sounded  a  wonderful 
note  in  Moral  Philosophy,  which  rings  false 
many  a  time  in  real  life,  when  to  ring  true 
would  change  the  whole  face  of  affairs. 

Thus  I  boldly  affirm,  that  were  there  a 
proper  sounding  title  to  cover  the  class  of 
unmarried  women,  many  a  marriage  which 
now  takes  place,  with  either  moderate  suc 
cess  or  distinct  failure,  would  remain  in 
pleasing  embryo. 

Of  the  three  evils  among  names  for  my 
book,  therefore,  I  leave  you  to  determine 


PREFACE 


whether  I  have  chosen  the  greatest  or  least. 
The  writing  of  it  came  about  in  this  way. 

In  a  conversation  concerning  modern 
marriage,  the  unwisdom  people  display  in 
choice,  and  the  complicated  affair  it  has 
come  to  be  from  a  pastoral  beginning,  I 
said  lightly,  "  I  shall  write  a  book  upon  this 
subject  some  fine  day,  and  I  shall  call  it 
'  The  Love  Affairs  of  an  Old  Maid,'  be 
cause  popular  prejudice  decrees  that  the 
love  affairs  of  an  old  maid  necessarily  are 
those  of  other  people." 

No  sooner  had  the  name  suggested  in 
broad  jest  taken  form  in  my  mind  than 
straightway  every  thought  I  possessed  crys 
tallized  around  it,  and  I  found  myself  im 
pelled  by  a  malevolent  Fate  to  begin  it. 

It  became  a  fixed  intention  on  a  Sunday 
morning  in  church  during  a  most  excellent 
sermon,  the  text  and  substance  of  which  I 
have  forgotten.  Doubtless  more  of  real 
worth  and  benefit  to  mankind  was  pent  up 
in  that  sermon  than  four  books  of  my  own 
writing  could  accomplish.  But,  with  the 


Vlii  PREFACE 

delightful  candor  of  John  Kendrick  Bangs, 
I  explain  my  lapse  of  memory  thus — 

"I  dote  on  Milton  and  on  Robert  Burns  ; 
I  love  old  Marryat — his  tales  of  pelf  ; 
I  live  on  Byron  ;   but  my  heart  most  yearns 
Towards  those  sweet  things  that  I've  penned 
myself." 

So  the  book  has  been  written.  The  ex 
istence  of  the  Old  Maid  often  has  been  a 
precarious  one ;  she  has  been  surrounded 
by  danger,  once  narrowly  .escaping  crema 
tion.  But  my  humanity  towards  dumb 
brutes  saved  her.  I  might  have  sacrificed  a 
woman,  but  I  could  not  kill  a  cat.  So  she 
lives,  unconsciously  owing  her  life  to  her 
cat. 

Thus  she  conies  to  you,  bearing  her  friends 
in  her  heart.  I  should  scarcely  dare  ask 
you  to  welcome  her,  did  I  not  suspect  that 
her  friends  are  yours.  You  have  your 
Flossy  and  your  Charlie  Hardy  without 
doubt.  Pray  Heaven  you  have  a  Rachel 
to  outweigh  them. 

CHICAGO,  March,  1893. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

1.  I  INTRODUCE  ME  TO  MYSELF   ....  i 

2.  I  COME  INTO  MY  KINGDOM 8 

3.  MATRIMONY  IN  HARNESS 18 

4.  WOMEN  AS  LOVERS 30 

5.  THE  HEART  OF  A  COQUETTE    ....  51 

6.  THE  LONELY  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  CLEVER 

CHILD 65 

7.  A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  GEESE 78 

8.  A  GAME  OF  HEARTS gi 

g.  THE  MADONNA  OF  THE  QUIET  MIND.     .  120 

10.  THE  PATHOS  OF  FAITH 137 

n.  THE  HAZARD  OF  A  HUMAN  DIE    .    .     .  156 
12.  IN  WHICH  I  WILLINGLY  TURN  MY  FACE 

WESTWARD 174 


THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS  OF  AN  OLD  MAID 


I   INTRODUCE   ME  TO   MYSELF 

"  There  is  a  luxury  in  self-dispraise  ; 
And  inward  self-disparagement  affords 
To  meditative  spleen  a  grateful  feast." 

TO-MORROW  I  shall  be  an  Old  Maid. 
What  a  trying  thing  to  have  to  say  even  to 
one's  self,  and  how  vexed  I  should  be  if  any 
body  else  said  it  to  me  !  Nevertheless,  it  is 
a  comfort  to  be  brutally  honest  once  in  a 
while  to  myself.  I  do  not  dare,  I  do  not 
care,  to  be  so  to  everybody.  But  with  my 
own  self,  I  can  feel  that  it  is  strictly  a  family 
affair.  If  I  hurt  my  feelings,  I  can  grieve 
over  it  until  I  apologize.  If  I  flatter  my 
self,  I  am  only  doing  what  every  other 
woman  in  the  world  is  doing  in  her  inner- 


2  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

most  consciousness,  and  flattery  as  honest 
as  flattery  from  one's  own  self  naturally 
would  be  could  not  fail  to  please  me.  Be 
sides,  it  would  have  the  unique  value  of 
being  believed  by  both  sides — a  situation 
in  the  flattery  line  which  I  fancy  has  no 
rival. 

It  is  well  to  become  acquainted  with  one's 
self  at  all  hazards,  and  as  I  am  going  to  be 
my  own  partner  in  the  rubber  of  life,  I  can 
do  nothing  better  than  to  study  my  own 
hand.  So,  to  harrow  up  my  feelings  as 
only  I  dare  to  do,  I  write  down  that  it  is 
really  true  of  me  that  I  passed  the  first 
corner  five  years  ago,  and  to-morrow  I  shall 
be  30. 

What  a  disagreeable  figure  a  3  is ;  I  never 
noticed  it  before.  It  looks  so  self-satisfied. 
And  as  to  that  fat,  hollow  o  which  follows 
it — I  always  did  detest  round  numbers. 

30 ;  there  it  goes  again.  I  must  accus 
tom  myself  to  it  privately,  so  I  write  it 
down  once  more,  and  it  laughs  in  my  face 
and  mocks  me.  Then  I  laugh  back  at  it 
and  say  aloud  that  it  is  true,  and  for  the 
time  being  I  have  cowed  it  and  become  its 


I    INTRODUCE   ME   TO   MYSELF  3 

master.  What  boots  it  if  the  laughter  is  a 
trifle  hollow  ?  There  is  no  harm  in  deceiv 
ing  two  miserable  little  figures. 

Let  me  revel  in  my  youth  while  I  may. 
To-night  I  am  a  gay  young  thing  of  twenty- 
nine.  To-morrow  I  shall  be  an  Old  Maid. 
I  have  very  little  time  left  in  which  to  make 
myself  ridiculous  and  have  it  excused  on 
account  of  my  youth.  But  somehow  I  do 
not  feel  very  gay.  I  have  a  curious  feeling 
about  my  heart,  as  if  I  were  at  a  burial — 
one  where  I  was  burying  something  that  I 
had  always  loved  very  dearly,  but  secretly, 
and  which  would  always  be  a  sweet  and 
tender  memory  with  me.  I  feel  nervous, 
too,  quite  as  if  I  did  not  know  whether  to 
laugh  or  to  cry.  I  remember  that  Alice 
Asbury  said  she  was  hysterical  just  before 
she  was  married.  I  wonder  if  a  woman's 
feelings  on  the  eve  of  being  an  Old  Maid  are 
unlike  those  of  one  about  to  become  a  bride. 

My  cat  sits  eying  me  with  sleepy  approval. 
I  always  liked  cats.  And  tea.  Why  have  I 
never  thought  of  it  before  ?  It  is  not  my 
fault  that  I  am  an  Old  Maid.  I  was  cut 
out  for  one.  All  my  tendencies  point  that 


4  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

way.  Please  don't  blame  me,  good  people. 
Come  here,  Tabby.  You  and  Missis  will 
grow  old  together. 

After  all,  it  is  a  sad  thing  when  one  re 
alizes  for  the  first  time  that  one's  youth  is 
slipping  away.  But  why  ?  Why  do  women 
of  great  intelligence,  of  intellect  even,  blush 
with  pleasure  at  the  implication  of  youth  ? 

There  are  fashions  in  thought  as  well  as 
in  dress,  and  the  best  of  us  follow  both,  as 
sheep  follow  their  leader.  We  will  some 
times  follow  our  neighbor's  line  of  insular 
prejudice,  when  worlds  could  not  bribe  us 
to  copy  her  grammar  or  her  gowns.  Dull 
people  admire  youth.  They  excuse  its  fol 
lies  ;  they  adore  its  prettiness.  That  it  is 
only  a  period  of  education,  and  that  real  life 
begins  with  maturity,  does  not  enter  into 
their  minds.  The  odor  of  bread  and  butter 
does  not  nauseate  them.  Dull  people,  I 
say — and  God  pity  us,  most  of  us  are  dull — 
admire  youth.  Men  love  it.  Therefore  we 
all  want  to  be  young.  We  strive  to  be  young, 
nay,  we  will  be  young. 

I  am  no  better  than  my  neighbors.  I,  too, 
am  young  when  I  am  with  people.  But 


I   INTRODUCE   ME  TO   MYSELF  5 

there  are  times  when  I  am  alone  when  the 
strain  of  being  young  relaxes,  and  I  luxuriate 
in  being  old,  old,  old;  when  I  cease  being 
contemporary,  and  look  back  fondly  to  the 
time  when  the  world  and  I  were  in  embryo. 

And  yet  I  wonder  if  extreme  age  is  as 
repulsive  to  everybody  as  it  is  to  me.  Forty 
seems  a  long  way  off.  I  fancy  people  at 
forty  become  very  uninteresting  to  the  on 
coming  generation.  Fifty  is  grandmotherly 
and  suitable  for  little  else.  Sixty,  seventy, 
and  beyond  seem  to  me  one  horrible  jumble 
of  wrinkles  and  wheezes  and  false  beauty 
and  general  unpleasantness.  Oh,  I  hope, 
if  I  should  live  to  be  over  fifty,  that  I  may 
be  a  pleasant  old  person.  I  hope  my  teeth 
will  fit  me,  and  the  parting  to  my  wave  be 
always  in  the  middle.  I  hope  my  fingers 
will  always  come  fully  to  the  ends  of  my 
gloves,  and  that  I  never  shall  wear  my  spec 
tacles  on  top  of  my  head.  But  I  hope  more 
than  all  that  it  isn't  wicked  to  wish  to  die 
before  I  come  to  these  things. 

Before  I  entirely  lose  my  youth — in  other 
words,  before  I  become  an  Old  Maid,  let 
me  see  what  I  must  give  up.  Lovers,  of 


6  THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

course.  That  goes  without  saying.  And 
if  I  give  them  up,  it  will  not  do  to  have 
their  photographs  standing  around.  They 
must  be  —  oh  !  and  their  letters  —  must 
they  too  be  destroyed?  Dear  me,  no  !  I'll 
just  fold  them  all  together  and  lay  them 
away,  like  a  wedding-dress  which  never  has 
been  worn.  And  I'll  put  girls'  pictures  or 
missionaries'  or  martyrs'  into  the  empty 
frames.  Martyrs'  would  be  most  appro 
priate. 

Now  for  a  box  to  put  them  in.  A  pretty 
box,  so  that  one  who  runs  may  read  ?  Not 
so,  you  sentimental  Elderly  Person.  Take 
this  tin  box  with  a  lock  on  it.  There  you 
are,  done  up  in  a  japanned  box  and  pad 
locked.  I  would  say  that  it  looks  like  a 
little  coffin  if  I  wasn't  afraid  of  what  my 
Alter  Ego  would  say.  She  seems  cross  to 
night.  I  wonder  what  is  the  matter  with 
her.  She  must  be  getting  old.  I  should 
like  to  hang  the  key  around  my  neck  on  a 
blue  ribbon,  but  I  am  afraid.  "  What  if  you 
should  be  run  over  and  killed,"  she  says, 
"  or  should  faint  away  in  church  ?  Remem 
ber  that  you  are  an  Old  Maid."  How  dis- 


I   INTRODUCE   ME  TO   MYSELF  J 

agreeable  old  maids  can  be  !  And  I've  got 
to  live  with  this  one  always.  I'll  put  the 
key  in  my  purse.  Nice,  sensible,  prosaic 
place,  a  purse. 

How  late  it  grows !  I  have  only  a  little 
time  left.  I  believe  that  clock  is  fast.  Dear, 
dear !  Do  I  want  to  just  sit  still  and  watch 
myself  turn  ?  I  meant  to  have  old  age  over 
take  me  in  my  sleep.  I  think  I  '-11  stop  that 
clock  and  let  my  youth  fade  from  me  una 
wares. 


II 

I   COME   INTO   MY   KINGDOM 

' '  There  is  no  compensation  for  the  woman  who 
feels  that  the  chief  relation  of  her  life  has  been  no 
more  than  a  mistake.  She  has  lost  her  crown. 
The  deepest  secret  of  human  blessedness  has  half 
whispered  itself  to  her  and  then  forever  passed  her 
by." 

I  HAVE  become  an  Old  Maid,  and  really 
it  is  a  relief.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  left  myself 
behind  me,  and  that  now  I  have  a  right  to 
the  interests  of  other  people  when  they  are 
freely  offered.  My  friends  always  have  con 
fided  in  me.  I  suppose  it  is  because  I  am 
receptive.  Men  tell  me  their  old  love  affairs. 
Girls  tell  me  the  whole  story  of  their  en 
gagements —  how  they  came  to  take  this 
man,  and  why  they  did  not  take  that  one. 
And  even  the  most  ordinary  are  vitally  inter 
esting.  Before  I  know  it,  I  am  rent  with  the 


I    COME   INTO   MY   KINGDOM  9 

same  despair  which  agitates  the  lover  con 
fiding  in  me  ;  or  I  am  wreathed  in  the  smiles 
of  the  engaged  girl  who  is  getting  her  ab 
sorbing  secret  comfortably  off  her  mind.  It 
seems  to  comfort  them  to  air  their  emotion, 
and  sometimes  I  am  convinced  that  they 
leave  the  most  of  it  with  me. 

Now  I  can  feel  at  liberty  to  enjoy  and 
sympathize  as  I  will.  Well,  the  love  affairs 
of  other  people  are  the  rightful  inheritance 
of  old  maids.  In  sharing  them  I  am  only 
coming  into  my  kingdom. 

Alice  Asbury  has  made  shipwreck  of  hers. 
The  girl  is  actively  miserable  and  her  hus 
band  is  indifferently  uncomfortable,  which 
is  the  habit  this  married  couple  have  of  ex 
periencing  the  same  emotion. 

Alice  is  a  mass  of  contradictions  to  those 
who  do  not  understand  her  —  now  in  the 
clouds,  now  in  the  depths.  Bad  weather 
depresses  her ;  so  does  a  sad  story,  the 
death  of  a  kitten,  solemn  music.  She  is 
correspondingly  volatile  in  the  opposite  di 
rection  and  often  laughs  at  real  calamities 
with  wonderful  courage.  She  has  a  fund  of 
romance  in  her  nature  which  has  led  her  to 


10  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

the  pass  she  now  is  in.  She  is  clever,  too, 
at  introspection  and  analysis  —  of  herself 
chiefly.  She  studies  her  own  sensations 
and  dissects  her  moods.  Her  selfishness  is 
of  the  peculiar  sort  which  should  have  kept 
her  from  marrying  until  she  found  the  hun 
dredth  man  who  could  appreciate  her  genius 
and  bend  it  into  nobler  channels.  Unfor 
tunately  she  married  one  of  the  ninety-nine. 
She  is  not,  perhaps,  more  selfish  than  many 
another  woman,  but  her  selfishness  is  differ 
ent.  She  is  mentally  cross-eyed  from  turn 
ing  her  eyes  inward  so  constantly. 

She  became  engaged  to  Brandt — a  man 
in  every  way  worthy  of  her — and  they  loved 
each  other  devotedly.  Then  during  a  quar 
rel  she  broke  the  engagement,  and  he,  being 
piqued  by  her  withdrawal,  immediately  mar 
ried  May  Lawrence,  who  had  been  patiently 
in  love  with  him  for  five  years,  and  who  was 
only  waiting  for  some  such  turn  as  this  to 
deliver  him  into  her  hands.  A  poetic  justice 
visits  him  with  misery,  for  he  still  cares  for 
Alice.  May,  however,  is  not  conscious  of 
this  fact  as  yet. 

Alice,  being  doubly  stung  by  his  defection, 


I    COME   INTO   MY   KINGDOM  II 

was  just  in  the  mood  to  do  something  des 
perate,  when  she  began  to  see  a  great  deal 
of  Asbury,  fresh  from  £>eing  jilted  by  Sallie 
Cox.  Asbury  was  moody,  and  confided  in 
Alice.  Alice  was  foolish,  and  confided  in 
him.  They  both  decided  that  their  hearts 
were  ashes,  love  burned  out,  and  life  a  howl 
ing  wilderness,  and  then  proceeded  to  ex 
change  these  empty  hearts  of  theirs,  and  to 
go  through  the  howling  wilderness  together. 
Alice  came  to  tell  me  about  it.  They  had 
no  love  to  give  each  other,  she  said  sadly, 
but  they  were  going  to  be  married.  I  would 
have  laughed  at  her  if  she  had  not  been  so 
tragic.  But  there  is  something  about  Alice, 
in  spite  of  her  romantic  folly,  (which  she 
has  adapted  from  the  French  to  suit  her 
American  needs,)  which  forbids  ridicule. 
Nevertheless  I  felt,  with  one  of  those  sudden 
flashes  of  intuition,  that  this  choice  of  hers 
was  a  hideous  mistake.  The  situation  re 
pelled  me.  But  the  very  strangeness  of  it 
seemed  to  attract  the  morbid  Alice.  And  it 
was  this  one  curious  strain  of  unexplained 
foolishness  marring  her  otherwise  strong 
and  in  many  ways  beautiful  character  which 


12  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

prevented  my  loving  her  completely  and 
safely.  Nevertheless,  I  cared  for  her  enough 
to  enter  my  feeble  and  futile  protest;  but  it 
was  waved  aside  with  the  superb  effrontery 
of  a  woman  who  feels  that  she  controls  the 
situation  with  her  head,  and  whose  heart  is 
not  at  liberty  to  make  uncomfortable  com 
plications.  I  would  rather  argue  with  a 
woman  who  is  desperately  in  love,  to  pre 
vent  her  marrying  the  man  of  her  choice, 
than  to  try  to  dissuade  a  woman  from  mar 
rying  a  man  she  has  set  her  head  upon. 
You  feel  sympathy  with  the  former,  and  you 
have  human  nature  and  the  whole  glorious 
love-making  Past  at  your  back,  to  give  you 
confidence  and  eloquence.  But  with  the 
latter  you  are  cowed  and  beaten  before 
hand,  and  tongue-tied  during  the  contest. 

So  she  became  Alice  Asbury,  and  these 
two  blighted  beings  took  a  flat.  Before  they 
had  been  at  home  from  their  honeymoon  a 
week  she  came  down  to  see  me,  and  told  me 
that  she  hated  Asbury. 

Imagine  a  bride  whose  bouquet,  only  a 
month  before,  you  had  held  at  the  altar,  and 
heard  her  promise  to  love,  honor,  and  obey 


I   COME  INTO   MY   KINGDOM  13 

a  man  until  death  did  them  part,  coming  to 
you  with  a  confession  like  that.  Still,  if  but 
one  half  she  tells  me  of  him  is  true,  I  do 
not  wonder  that  she  hates  him. 

With  her  revolutionary,  anarchistic  com 
pleteness,  she  has  renounced  the  idea  of 
compromise  or  adaptability  as  finally  as  if 
she  had  seen  and  passed  the  end  of  the 
world.  There  is  no  more  pliability  in  her 
with  regard  to  Asbury  than  there  is  in  a 
steel  rod.  How  different  she  used  to  be 
with  Brandt !  How  she  consulted  his  wishes 
and  accommodated  herself  to  him  ! 

When  a  woman  born  to  be  ruled  by  love 
only  passes  by  her  master  spirit,  she  be 
comes  an  anomaly  in  woman  —  she  makes 
complications  over  which  the  psychologist 
wastes  midnight  oil,  and  if  he  never  dis 
covers  the  solution,  it  is  because  of  its  very 
simplicity. 

All  the  sweetness  seems  to  have  left 
Alice's  nature.  She  keeps  somebody  with 
her  every  moment.  That  one  guest  cham 
ber  in  her  flat  has  been  occupied  by  all 
the  girls  that  she  can  persuade  to  visit  her. 
Asbury  dislikes  company,  but  she  says  she 


14  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

does  not  care.  She  cannot  keep  visitors 
long,  because  as  soon  as  they  discover  that 
they  are  unwelcome  to  Asbury,  naturally 
they  go  home. 

Fortunately,  Asbury  does  not  care  for 
Sallie  Cox  any  more.  When  his  vanity  was 
wounded,  his  love  died  instantly.  I  think 
he  is  more  in  love  with  himself  than  he  ever 
was  with  any  woman.  There  are  men,  you 
know,  whose  one  grand  passion  in  life  is  for 
themselves.  But  Alice  knows  that  Brandt 
still  cares  for  her,  and  she  feeds  her  roman 
tic  fancy  on  this  fact,  and  has  her  introspec 
tive  miseries  to  her  heart's  content.  She  is 
far  too  cool-headed  a  woman  to  do  anything 
rash.  Sometimes  I  think  her  morbid  nature 
obtains  more  real  satisfaction  out  of  her 
joyless  situation  than  positive  happiness 
would  compensate  her  for.  She  appears  to 
take  a  certain  negative  pleasure  in  it.  Their 
marriage  is  the  product  of  a  false  civiliza 
tion,  and  I  pity  them — at  a  distance  —  from 
the  bottom  of  my  heart.  I  am  sorry  for 
Brandt,  too,  for  he  honestly  loved  Alice  and 
might  have  proved  the  hundredth  man  — 
who  knows  ? 


I    COME   INTO    MY   KINGDOM  15 

I  do  not  quite  know  whether  to  be  sorry 
for  May  Brandt  or  not,  for  she  made  com 
plications  and  made  them  purposely.  She 
made  them  so  promptly,  too,  that  she  pre 
cluded  the  possibility  of  a  reconciliation  be 
tween  Alice  and  Brandt.  If  Brandt  had  re 
mained  single,  I  doubt  whether  Alice  would 
have  had  the  courage  to  form  an  engage 
ment  with  any  other  man.  She  loved  him 
too  truly  to  take  the  first  step  towards  an 
eternal  separation.  Women  seldom  dare 
make  that  first  move,  except  as  a  decoy. 
They  are  naturally  superstitious,  and  even 
when  curiously  free  from  this  trait  in  every 
thing  else,  they  cling  to  a  little  in  love,  and 
dare  not  tempt  Fate  too  insolently. 

A  woman  who  has  quarrelled  with  her 
lover,  in  her  secret  heart  expects  him  back 
daily  and  hourly,  no  matter  what  the  cause 
of  the  estrangement,  until  he  becomes  in 
volved  with  another  woman.  Then  she  lays 
all  the  blame  of  his  defection  at  the  door 
of  the  alien,  where,  in  the  opinion  of  an  Old 
Maid,  it  generally  belongs. 

If  other  women  would  let  men  alone,  con 
stancy  would  be  less  of  a  hollow  mockery. 


l6  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

(Query,  but  is  it  constancy  where  there  is  no 
temptation  to  be  fickle  ?)  Nevertheless,  let 
"  another  woman  "  sympathize  with  an  es 
tranged  lover,  and  place  a  little  delicate 
blame  upon  his  sweetheart  and  flatter  him 
a  great  deal,  and  presto !  you  have  one  of 
those  criss-cross  engagements  which  turns 
life  to  a  dull  gray  for  the  aching  heart  which 
is  left  out. 

If,  too,  when  this  honestly  loving  woman 
appears  to  take  the  first  step,  her  actions 
and  mental  processes  could  be  analyzed 
and  timed,  it  frequently  would  prove  that, 
with  her  quicker  calculations,  she  foresaw 
the  fatal  effect  of  the  "  other- woman"  ele 
ment,  and,  desirous  of  protecting  her  vanity, 
reached  blindly  out  to  the  nearest  man  at 
her  command,  and  married  him  with  magnif 
icent  effrontery,  just  to  circumvent  humili 
ation  and  to  take  a  little  wind  out  of  the 
other  woman's  sails.  But  could  you  make 
her  lover  believe  that?  Never. 

And  so  May  Lawrence  played  the  "  other 
woman  "  in  the  Asbury  tragedy.  I  wonder 
if  she  is  satisfied  with  her  role.  A  girl  who 
wilfully  catches  a  man's  heart  on  the  re- 


I    COME    INTO    MY    KINGDOM  17 

bound,  does  the  thing  which  involves  more 
risk  than  anything  else  malevolent  fate  could 
devise. 

On  the  whole,  I  think  I  am  sorry  for  her, 
for  she  has  apples  of  Sodom  in  her  hand, 
although  as  yet  to  her  delighted  gaze  they 
appear  the  fairest  of  summer  fruit. 

2 


Ill 

MATRIMONY   IN   HARNESS 

' '  What  eagles  are  we  still 
In  matters  that  belong  to  other  men  ; 
What  beetles  in  our  own!" 

THE  more  I  know  of  horses,  the  more 
natural  I  think  men  and  women  are  in  the 
unequalness  of  their  marriages.  I  never  yet 
saw  a  pair  of  horses  so  well  matched  that 
they  pulled  evenly  all  the  time.  The  more 
skilful  the  driver,  the  less  he  lets  the  discrep 
ancy  become  apparent.  Going  up  hill,  one 
horse  generally  does  the  greater  share  of 
work.  If  they  pull  equally  up  hill,  some 
times  they  see-saw  and  pull  in  jerks  on  a 
level  road.  And  I  never  saw  a  marriage  in 
which  both  persons  pulled  evenly  all  the 
time,  and  the  worst  of  it  is,  I  suppose  this 
unevenness  is  only  what  is  always  expected. 


MATRIMONY   IN   HARNESS  IQ 

Having  no  marriage  of  my  own  to  worry 
over,  it  is  gratuitous  when  I  worry  over 
other  people's.  Old  maids,  you  know,  like 
to  air  their  views  on  matrimony  and  bring 
ing  up  children.  Their  theories  on  these 
subjects  have  this  advantage  —  that  they 
always  hold  good  because  they  never  are 
tried. 

There  never  was  such  an  unequal  yoking 
together  as  the  Herricks'.  Nobody  has  told 
me.  This  is  one  of  the  affairs  which  has 
not  been  confided  to  me.  Only,  I  knew  them 
both  so  well  before  they  were  married.  I 
knew  Bronson  Herrick  best,  however,  be 
cause  I  never  used  to  see  any  more  of  Flos 
sy  than  was  necessary. 

To  begin  with,  I  never  liked  her  name.  I 
have  an  idea  that  names  show  character. 
Could  anybody  under  heaven  be  noble  with 
such  a  name  as  Flossy?  I  believe  names 
handicap  people.  I  believe  children  are 
sometimes  tortured  by  hideous  and  unmean 
ing  names.  But  give  them  strong,  ugly 
names  in  preference  to  Ina  and  Bessie  and 
Flossy  and  such  pretty-pretty  names,  with 
no  meaning  and  no  character  to  them.  Take 


2O          THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

my  own  name,  Ruth.  If  I  wanted  to  be 
noble  or  heroic  I  could  be ;  my  name  would 
not  be  an  anomalous  nightmare  to  attract 
attention  to  the  incongruity.  We  cannot  be 
too  thankful  to  our  mothers  who  named  us 
Mary  and  Dorothy  and  Constance.  What 
an  inspiration  to  be  "  faithful  over  a  few 
things "  such  a  name  as  Constance  must 
be! 

But  Flossy's  mother  named  her — not  Flor 
ence,  but  Flossy.  I  suppose  she  was  one  of 
those  fluffy,  curly,  silky  babies.  She  grew 
to  be  that  kind  of  a  girl — a  Flossy  girl.  It 
speaks  for  itself.  I  suppose  with  that  name 
she  never  had  any  incentive  to  outgrow  her 
nature. 

It  came  out  on  her  wedding  cards  : 

"'  Mr.  and  Mrs.  CHARLES  FAY  CARLETON 

request  you  to  be  present  at  the 

marriage  of  their  daughter 

FLOSSY 

to 
Mr.  BRONSON  STURGIS  HERRICK." 

The  contrast  between  the  two  names, 
hers  so  nonsensical  and  his  so  dignified 
and  strong,  was  no  greater  than  that  be- 


MATRIMONY   IN    HARNESS  21 

tween  the  two  people.  In  truth,  their  names 
were  symbolic  of  their  natures.  It  looked 
really  pitiful  to  me. 

I  wondered  if  anybody  besides  Rachel 
English  and  me  looked  into  their  future 
with  apprehension.  Our  misgivings,  I  must 
admit,  were  all  for  Bronson. 

Ah,  well-a-day !  It  is  so  easy  to  feel  sym 
pathy  for  a  man  you  admire,  especially  if  he 
is  strong  and  loyal,  and  does  not  ask  or  de 
sire  it  of  you. 

Flossy  was  one  of  those  cuddling  girls. 
She  appealed  to  you  with  her  eyes,  and  you 
found  yourself  petting  her  and  sympathizing 
with  her,  when,  if  you  stopped  to  think,  you 
would  see  that  she  had  more  of  everything 
than  you  had.  She  possessed  a  rich  father, 
a  beautiful  house,  and  perfect  health.  Nev 
ertheless,  you  found  yourself  asking  after 
"poor  Flossy,"  and  your  voice  commiser 
ated  her  if  your  words  did  not.  She  inva 
riably  had  some  trifling  ill  to  tell  you  of. 
She  had  hurt  her  arm,  or  scratched  her  hand, 
or  the  snow  made  her  eyes  ache,  or  she  was 
tired.  She  never  seemed  at  liberty  to  enjoy 
herself,  although  she  went  everywhere,  and 


seemed  to  do  so  successfully  in  spite  of  her 
imaginary  ills,  if  you  let  her  enjoy  herself  by 
telling  you  of  them. 

Everybody  helped  Flossy  to  live.  Every 
body  protected  and  looked  after  her.  There 
was  some  one  on  his  knees  continually,  re 
moving  invisible  brambles  from  her  rose-leaf 
path.  She  didn't  know  how  to  do  anything 
for  herself*  She  never  buttoned  her  own 
boots.  When  her  maid  was  not  with  her, 
other  people  put  her  jacket  on  for  her, 
and  carried  her  umbrella  and  buttoned  her 
gloves.  Men  always  buttoned  her  gloves, 
and  her  gloves  always  had  more  buttons, 
and  more  unruly  buttons,  than  any  other 
gloves  I  ever  saw.  But  then  I  am  elderly. 

I  never  knew  Flossy  to  do  anything  for 
anybody.  She  never  gave  things  away,  but 
on  Christmas  and  her  birthdays  she  re 
ceived  remembrances  from  everybody.  I 
used  to  make  her  presents  without  know 
ing  why  or  even  thinking  of  it.  Flossy's 
name  was  on  all  the  Christmas  lists,  and 
she  used  to  shed  tears  over  the  kindness 
of  her  friends,  and  write  the  prettiest  notes 
to  them,  so  plaintive  and  self-deprecatory. 


MATRIMONY   IN    HARNESS  23 

Then  they  took  her  to  drive,  or  did  some 
thing  more  for  her.  Flossy  read  poetry  and 
cried  over  it.  She  wrote  poetry  too,  and 
other  people  cried  over  that. 

When  Bronson  Herrick  told  me  he  was 
going  to  marry  her,  I  wanted  to  say,  "  No, 
you  are  not."  But  I  didn't.  I  did  not  even 
seem  to  be  surprised,  for  he  is  so  proud 
he  would  have  resented  any  surprise  on  my 
part.  He  told  me  about  it  of  course,  know 
ing  that  I  could  not  fail  to  be  pleased.  (His 
photograph  is  in  that  japanned  box  of  mine. 
This  smile  on  my  face,  Tabby,  is  rather  sar 
donic.  Why  is  it  that  men  expect  an  old 
sweetheart  to  take  an  active  interest  in 
their  bride-elect,  and  are  so  deadly  sure  that 
they  will  like  each  other  ?) 

"  She  is  the  most  sympathetic  little  thing," 
he  said  enthusiastically.  "She  reminds  me 
of  you  in  so  many  ways.  You  are  very  much 
alike." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  Bronson  Sturgis  Her 
rick  !  I  assure  you  I  would  cheerfully  drown 
myself  if  I  thought  you  were  right  about 
that,"  I  exclaimed  mentally. 

He  repeated  over  and  over  that  she  was 


24  THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

"so  sympathetic."  He  meant,  of  course, 
that  she  had  wept  over  him.  Flossy' s  tears 
flow  like  rain  if  you  crook  your  finger  at 
her,  and  tears  wring  the  heart  of  a  man  like 
Bronson.  To  think  he  was  going  to  marry 
her !  I  just  looked  at  him,  I  remember,  as 
he  stood  so  straight  and  tall  before  me,  and 
said  to  myself,  "  Well,  you  dear,  honest,  loy 
al,  clever  man !  You  are  just  the  kind  of  a 
man  that  women  fool  most  unmercifully. 
But  it's  nature,  and  you  can't  help  it.  Go 
and  marry  this  Flossy  girl,  and  commit 
mental  suicide  if  you  must." 

"  Sympathetic !" 

So  he  married  her  five  years  ago,  and  be 
came  her  man-servant. 

When  they  had  been  married  about  a 
year,  people  said  that  Bronson  was  working 
himself  to  death.  I,  being  an  Old  Maid, 
and  liking  to  meddle  with  other  people's 
business,  told  him  that  I  thought  he  ought 
to  take  a  vacation.  He  said  he  couldn't 
afford  it.  I  was  honestly  surprised  at  that, 
because,  while  he  was  not  rich,  he  was  ex 
tremely  well-to-do,  with  a  rapidly  increasing 
law  practice.  And  then  Flossy's  father  had 


MATRIMONY    IN    HARNESS  2$ 

been  very  generous  when  she  married  him. 
He  was  considerate  enough  to  reply  to  my 
look. 

"You  know  I  married  a  rich  girl.  Flossy's 
money  is  her  own.  She  has  saved  it — I 
wished  her  to  save  it,  I  wished  it — and  I  am 
doing  my  level  best  to  support  her  as  nearly 
as  possible  in  the  way  in  which  she  has 
been  accustomed  to  live.  She  ought  to 
have  an  easier  time,  poor  child." 

So  he  did  not  take  a  vacation,  and  the 
summer  was  very  hot,  and  when  Flossy  came 
home  from  Rye  she  found  him  wretchedly 
ill,  and  discovered  that  he  had  had  a  trained 
nurse  for  two  weeks  before  he  let  her  know 
anything  about  it.  Then  people  pitied  Flos 
sy  for  having  her  summer  interrupted,  and 
Flossy  felt  that  it  was  a  shame ;  but  she 
very  willingly  sat  and  fanned  Bronson  for  as 
much  as  an  hour  every  day  and  answered 
questions  languidly  and  was  pale,  and  peo 
ple  sent  her  flowers  and  were  extremely 
sorry  for  her. 

When  Bronson  became  well  enough  to  go 
away,  as  his  doctors  ordered,  for  a  complete 
rest,  Rachel  English  happened  to  go  on  the 


26  THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

same  train  with  them,  and  the  next  day  I 
received  a  letter,  or  rather  an  envelope, 
from  her,  with  this  single  sentence  enclosed : 
"And  if  she  didn't  make  him  hold  her  in 
his  arms  in  broad  daylight  every  step  of  the 
way,  because  the  train  jarred  her  back !" 

(Tabby,  there  is  no  use  in  talking.  I  must 
stop  and  pull  your  ears.  Come  here  and 
let  Missis  be  really  rough  with  you  for  a 
minute.) 

There  are  some  women  who  prefer  a  valet 
to  a  husband  ;  who  think  that  the  more  me 
nial  are  his  services  in  public,  the  more  appa 
rent  is  his  devotion.  It  is  a  Roman-chariot- 
wheel  idea,  which  degrades  both  the  man 
and  the  woman  in  the  eyes  of  the  specta 
tors.  I  wrote  to  Rachel,  and  said  in  the 
letter,  "  One  horse  in  the  span  always  does 
most  of  the  pulling,  you  know,  especially 
uphill."  And  Rachel  wrote  back,  "  Wouldn't 
I  just  like  to  drive  this  pair,  though  !" 

Bronson  had  his  ideals  before  he  was 
married,  as  most  men  have,  concerning  the 
kind  of  a  home  he  hoped  for.  He  always 
said  that  it  was  not  so  much  what  your  home 
was,  as  how  it  was.  He  believed  that  a 


MATRIMONY   IN   HARNESS  27 

home  consisted  more  in  the  feelings  and 
aims  of  its  inmates  than  in  rugs  and  jardi 
nieres.  He  said  to  me  once,  "  The  oneness 
of  two  people  could  make  a  home  in  Sahara."' 

He  was  ambitious,  too,  feeling  within  him 
self  that  power  which  makes  orators  and 
statesmen,  but  needing  the  approval  and  en 
couragement  of  some  one  who  also  real 
ized  his  capabilities,  to  enable  him  to  do 
his  best.  He  himself  was  the  one  who  was 
sympathetic,  if  he  had  only  known  it.  His 
nature  responded  with  the  utmost  readiness 
to  whatever  appealed  to  him  from  the  side 
of  right  or  justice. 

He  had  noble  hopes  in  many  directions, 
hopes  which  inspired  me  to  believe  in  his 
truth  and  goodness,  aside  from  his  capabili 
ties  for  achieving  greatness.  His  eagle  sight, 
which  read  through  other  men's  shams  and 
pretences ;  his  moral  sense,  which  bade  him 
shun  even  the  appearance  of  evil,  not  only 
permitted,  but  urged  him,  seemingly,  into  this 
marriage  with  Flossy,  by  which  he  effectu 
ally  cut  himself  off  from  his  dearest  aspira 
tions.  One  by  one  I  have  seen  him  relin 
quish  them,  holding  to  them  lovingly  to  the 


28  THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN  OLD   MAID 

last.  The  hours  at  home,  which  he  intend 
ed  to  give  to  study  and  research,  have  been 
sacrificed  to  the  petting  and  nursing  of  a 
perfectly  well  woman,  who  demanded  it  of 
him.  His  home  life,  where  he  had  dreamed 
of  a  congenial  atmosphere,  where  the  cen 
tripetal  force  should  be  the  love  of  wife  and 
children,  merged  into  frequent  journeys  for 
Flossy — who  would  have  been  happy  if  she 
never  had  been  obliged  to  stay  in  one  place 
over  a  week — and  a  shifting  of  their  one 
child  Rachel  into  the  care  of  nurses,  be 
cause  Flossy  fretted  at  the  care  of  her  and 
demanded  all  of  Bronson's  time  for  herself. 
Thus  was  Bronson's  life  being  twisted  and 
bent  from  its  natural  course.  Was  it  a  weak 
ness  in  him  ?  To  be  sure  he  might  have 
shown  his  strength  by  breaking  loose  from 
family  ties,  and,  hardening  his  heart  to  his 
wife's  plaints,  have  carried  out  his  ambitions 
with  some  degree  of  success.  He  did  at 
tempt  this,  nor  did  he  fail  in  his  career.  He 
was  called  a  fairly  successful  man.  I  dare 
say  the  majority  of  people  never  knew  that 
he  was  created  for  grander  things.  But 
something  was  sapping  his  energy  at  the 


MATRIMONY  IN   HARNESS  2g 

fountain-head.  Was  he  realizing  that  he 
had  helped  to  shatter  his  ideals  with  his 
own  hand  ? 

I  never  am  so  well  satisfied  with  my  lot 
of  single-blessedness  as  when  I  contemplate 
the  sort  of  wife  Flossy  makes.  That  may 
sound  arrogant,  but  this  is  a  secret  session 
of  human  nature,  when  arrogance  and  all 
native-born  sins  are  permissible. 

Flossy  is  perfectly  unconscious  of  the 
spectacle  she  presents  to  the  world.  Ah, 
me !  I  know  it  is  said,  "  Judge  not,  that  ye 
be  not  judged."  I  might  have  made  him 
just  such  a  wife,  I  suppose.  O  heavens !  no, 
I  shouldn't.  Tabby,  that  is  making  humility 
eo  a  iittle  too  far. 


IV 

WOMEN   AS   LOVERS 

"In  every  clime  and  country 

There  lives  a  Man  of  Pain, 
Whose  nerves,  like  chords  of  lightning, 

Bring  fire  into  his  brain : 
To  him  a  whisper  is  a  wound, 

A  look  or  sneer,  a  blow  ; 
More  pangs  he  feels  in  years  or  months 

Than  dunce-throng'd  ages  know." 

I  HAVE  had  such  a  curious  experience.  I 
have  been  confided  in,  twice  in  one  day. 
Two  more  bits  out  of  other  lives  have  been 
given  to  me,  and  it  is  astonishing  to  see  how 
well  they  piece  into  mine. 

To  begin  with,  Rachel  English  came  in 
early.  There  is  something  particularly  au 
spicious  about  Rachel.  She  fits  me  like  a 
glove.  She  never  jars  nor  grates.  When 
she  is  here,  I  am  comfortable ;  when  she  is 
gone,  I  miss  something.  If  I  see  a  fine 
painting,  or  hear  magnificent  music,  I  think 


WOMEN  AS    LOVERS  31 

of  Rachel  before  any  other  thought  comes 
into  my  mind.  One  involuntarily  associates 
her  with  anything  wonderfully  fine  in  art  or 
literature,  with  the  perfect  assurance  that 
she  will  be  sympathetic  and  appreciative. 
She  understands  the  deep,  inarticulate  emo 
tions  in  the  kindred  way  you  have  a  right 
to  expect  of  your  lover,  and  which  you  are 
oftenest  disappointed  in,  if  you  do  expect  it 
of  him.  If  I  were  a  man,  I  should  be  in 
love  with  Rachel. 

Her  sensitiveness  through  every  available 
channel  makes  her  of  no  use  to  general  so 
ciety.  Blundering  people  tread  on  her; 
malicious  ones  tear  her  to  pieces.  Rachel 
ought  to  be  caged,  and  only  approached  by 
clever  people  who  have  brains  enough  to 
appreciate  her,  I  should  like  to  be  her 
keeper.  But  her  organization  is  too  closely 
allied  to  that  of  genius  to  be  happy,  unless 
with  certain  environments  which  it  is  too 
good  to  believe  will  ever  surround  her.  She 
is  so  clever  that  she  is  perfectly  helpless. 
If  you  knew  her,  this  would  not  be  a  para 
dox.  Possibly  it  isn't  anyway. 

I  do  not  say  that  Rachel  is  perfect.     She 


32  THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

would  be  desperately  uncomfortable  as  a 
friend  if  she  were.  Her  failings  are  those 
belonging  to  a  frank,  impulsive,  generous 
nature,  which  I  myself  find  it  easy  to  for 
give.  Her  gravest  fault  is  a  witty  tongue. 
That  which  many  people  would  give  years 
of  their  lives  to  possess  is  what  she  has  shed 
the  most  tears  over  and  which  she  most 
liberally  detests  in  herself.  She  calls  it  her 
private  demon,  and  says  she  knows  that  one 
of  the  devils,  in  the  woman  who  was  pos- 
.sessed  of  seven,  was  the  devil  of  wit. 

Wit  is  a  weapon  of  defence,  and  was  no 
more  intended  to  be  an  attribute  of  woman 
than  is  a  knowledge  of  fire-arms  or  a  fond 
ness  for  mice.  A  witty  woman  is  an  anom 
aly,  fit  only  for  literary  circles  and  to  be  ad 
mired  at  a  distance. 

It  is  of  no  use  to  advise  Rachel  to  curb 
her  tongue.  So  tender-hearted  that  the  sight 
of  an  animal  in  pain  makes  her  faint ;  so 
humble-minded  that  she  cannot  bear  to  re 
ceive  an  apology,  but,  no  matter  what  has 
been  the  offence,  cuts  it  off  short  and  has 
tens  to  accept  it  before  it  is  uttered,  with  the 
generous  assurance  that  she,  too,  has  been 


WOMEN   AS   LOVERS  33 

to  blame ;  yet  she  wounds  cruelly,  but  uncon 
sciously,  with  her  tongue,  which  cleaves  like 
a  knife,  and  holds  up  your  dearest,  most  pri 
vate  foibles  on  stilettos  of  wit  for  the  pub 
lic  to  mock  at.  Not  that  she  is  personal  in 
her  allusions,  but  her  thorough  knowledge 
of  the  philosophy  of  human  nature  and  the 
deep,  secret  springs  of  human  action  lead 
her  to  witty,  satirical  generalizations,  which 
are  so  painfully  true  that  each  one  of  her 
hearers  goes  home  hugging  a  personal  af 
front,  while  poor  Rachel  never  dreams  of 
lacerated  feelings  until  she  meets  averted 
faces  or  hears  a  whisper  of  her  heinous  sin. 
This  grieves  her  wofully,  but  leaves  her  with 
no  mode  of  redress,  for  who  dare  offer  balm 
to  wounded  vanity  ?  I  believe  her  when  she 
says  she  "  never  wilfully  planted  a  thorn  in 
any  human  breast." 

She  scarcely  had  entered  before  I  saw 
that  she  had  something  on  her  mind.  And 
it  was  not  long  before  she  began  to  confide, 
but  in  an  impersonal  way. 

There  is  something  which  makes  you  hold 
your  breath  before  you  enter  the  inner  nat 
ure  of  some  one  who  has  extraordinary 
3 


34  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

depth.  You  feel  as  if  you  were  going  to 
find  something  different  and  interesting, 
and  possibly  difficult  or  explosive.  It  is 
dark,  too,  yet  you  feel  impelled  to  enter. 
It  is  like  going  into  a  cave. 

Most  people  are  afraid  of  Rachel.  Some 
times  I  am.  But  it  is  the  alluring,  hyster 
ical  fear  which  makes  a  child  say,  "  Scare 
me  again." 

Imagine  such  a  girl  in  love.  Rachel  is 
in  love.  She  would  not  say  with  whom — 
naturally.  At  least,  naturally  for  Rachel. 
I  felt  rather  helpless,  but  as  I  knew  that  all 
she  wanted  was  an  intelligent  sympathizer, 
not  verbal  assistance,  I  was  willing  to  blun 
der  a  little.  I  knew  she  would  speedily  set 
me  right. 

"You  are  too  clever  to  marry,"  I  said  at 
a  hazard. 

"  That  is  one  of  the  most  popular  of  fal 
lacies,"  she  answered  me  crushingly.  "  Why 
can't  clever  women  marry,  and  make  just  as 
good  wives  as  the  others  ?  Why  can't  a 
woman  bend  her  cleverness  to  see  that  her 
house  is  in  order,  and  her  dinners  well 
cooked,  and  buttons  sewed  on,  as  well  as 


WOMEN   AS   LOVERS  35 

to  discuss  new  books  and  keep  pace  with 
her  husband  intellectually?  Do  you  sup 
pose  because  I  know  Greek  that  I  cannot  be 
in  love  ?  Do  you  suppose  because  I  went 
through  higher  mathematics  that  I  never 
pressed  a  flower  he  gave  me  ?  Do  you  im 
agine  that  Biology  kills  blushing  in  a  wom 
an  ?  Do  you  think  that  Philosophy  keeps 
me  from  crying  myself  to  sleep  when  I  think 
he  doesn't  care  for  me,  or  growing  idioti 
cally  glad  when  he  tells  me  he  does  ?  What 
rubbish  people  write  upon  this  subject ! 
Even  Pope  proved  that  he  was  only  a  man 
when  he  said, 

"  '  Love  seldom  haunts  the  breast  where  learning  lies, 
And  Venus  sets  ere  Mercury  can  rise.' 

Did  you  ever  read  such  foolishness  ?" 

"  Often,  my  dear,  often.  But  console 
yourself.  A  wiser  than  Pope  says,  'The 
learned  eye  is  still  the  loving  one.'  " 

"  Browning,  of  course.  I  ought  not  to  be 
surprised  that  the  prince  of  poets  should  be 
clever  enough  to  know  that.  It  is  from  his 
own  experience.  '  Who  writes  to  himself, 
writes  to  an  eternal  public.'  You  see,  Ruth, 
men  can't  help  looking  at  the  question  from 


36          THE    LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD    MAID 

the  other  side,  because  they  form  the  other 
side.  You  might  cram  a  woman's  head  with 
all  the  wisdom  of  the  ages,  and  while  it 
would  frighten  every  man  who  came  near 
her  into  hysterics,  it  wouldn't  keep  her  from 
going  down  abjectly  before  some  man  who 
had  sense  enough  to  know  that  higher  edu 
cation  does  not  rob  a  woman  of  her  wom 
anliness.  Depend  upon  it,  Ruth,  when  it 
does,  she  would  have  been  unwomanly  and 
masculine  if  she  hadn't  been  able  to  read. 
And  it  is  the  man  who  marries  a  woman  of 
brains  who  is  going  to  get  the  most  out  of 
this  life." 

"  Men  don't  want  clever  wives,"  I  said 
feebly. 

"  Clever  men  don't.  Why  is  it  that  all 
the  brightest  men  we  know  have  selected 
girls  who  looked  pretty  and  have  coddled 
them  ?  Look  at  Bronson  and  Flossy.  That 
man  is  lonesome,  I  tell  you,  Ruth.  He  act 
ually  hungers  and  thirsts  for  his  intellectual 
and  moral  affinity,  and  yet  even  he  did  not 
have  the  sense — the  astuteness — to  select  a 
wife  who  would  have  stood  at  his  side,  in 
stead  of  one  who  lay  in  a  wad  at  his  feet. 


WOMEN   AS   LOVERS  37 

Oh,  the  bungling  marriages  that  we  see  !  I 
believe  one  reason  is  that  like  seldom  mar 
ries  like.  For  my  part  I  do  not  believe  in 
the  marriage  of  opposites.  Look  at  Robert 
Browning  and  his  wife.  That  is  my  ideal 
marriage.  Their  art  and  brains  were  mar 
ried,  as  well  as  their  hands  and  hearts.  It 
is  pure  music  to  think  of  it.  And,  to  me, 
the  most  pathetic  poem  in  the  English  lan 
guage  is  Browning's  '  Andrea  del  Sarto.' 

"  Isn't  it  strange  to  see  the  kind  of  men 
who  love  clever  women  like  you  ?  You 
never  could  have  brought  yourself  to  marry 
any  of  them,  expecting  to  find  them  conge 
nial.  They  would  have  admired  you  in 
dumb  silence,  until  they  grew  tired  of  feeling 
your  superiority ;  after  that — what  ?" 

"The  deluge,  I  suppose.  Ruth,  I  don't 
see  how  a  woman  with  any  self-respect  can 
marry  until  she  meets  her  master.  That  is 
high  treason,  isn't  it  ?  But  it  is  one  of  those 
sentient  bits  of  truth  which  we  never  men 
tion  in  society.  The  man  I  marry  must  have 
a  stronger  will  and  a  greater  brain  than  I 
have,  or  I  should  rule  him.  I'll  never  marry 
until  I  find  a  man  who  knows  more  than  I 


38  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

do.  Yet,  as  to  these  other  men  who  have 
loved  me — you  know  what  a  tender  place  a 
woman  has  in  her  heart  for  the  men  who 
have  wanted  to  marry  her.  My  intellect  re 
pudiated,  but  my  heart  cherishes  them  still. 
Odd  things,  hearts.  Sometimes  I  wish  we 
didn't  have  any  when  they  ache  so.  I  feel 
like  disagreeing  with  all  the  poets  to-day, 
because  they  will  not  say  what  I  believe. 
Do  you  remember  this  from  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher, 

"  '  Of  all  the  paths  that  lead  to  woman's  love 
Pity's  the  straightest '  ? 

Men  are  fond  of  saying  that,  I  notice,  but 
I  don't  think  we  women  bear  out  the  truth. 
I  couldn't  love  a  man  I  pitied.  I  could 
love  one  I  was  proud  of,  or  afraid  of,  but 
one  I  pitied  ?  Never.  It  is  more  true  to 
say  it  of  men.  I  believe  plenty  of  girls  ob 
tain  husbands  by  virtue  of  their  weakness, 
their  loneliness,  their  helplessness,  their — 
anything  which  makes  a  man  pity  them. 
Pleasant  thought,  isn't  it,  for  a  woman  who 
loves  her  own  sex  and  wishes  it  held  its 
head  up  better  !  You  may  say  that  it  is  this 
sort  who  receive  more  of  the  attentions  that 


WOMEN    AS    LOVERS  39 

women  love,  chivalry  and  tenderness  and  de 
votion.  But  if  all  or  any  of  these  were  in 
spired  by  pity,  I'd  rather  not  have  them. 
I  would  rather  a  man  would  be  rough  and 
brusque  with  me,  if  he  loved  me  heroically, 
than  to  see  him  fling  his  coat  in  the  mud  for 
me  to  step  on,  because  he  pitied  my  weak 
ness.  Do  you  know,  Ruth,  I  think  men  are 
a  good  deal  more  human  than  women.  You 
can  work  them  out  by  algebra  (for  they 
never  have  more  than  one  unknown  quan 
tity,  and  in  the  woman  problem  there  would 
be  more  x's  than  anything  else),  and  you 
can  go  by  rules  and  get  the  answer.'  But 
nothing  ever  calculated  or  evolved  can  get 
the  final  answer  to  one  woman  —  though 
they  do  say  she  is  fond  of  the  last  word ! 
We  understand  ourselves  intuitively,  and  we 
understand  men  by  study,  yet  we  are  made 
the  receivers,  not  the  givers ;  the  chosen, 
not  the  choosers.  It  really  is  an  absurd 
dispensation  when  you  view  it  apart  from 
sentiment,  yet  I,  for  one,  would  not  have  it 
changed.  I  should  not  mind  being  Cupid 
for  a  while,  though,  and  giving  him  a  few 
ideas  in  the  matins:  line. 


40  THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

"  I  think  women  are  often  misjudged. 
Men  seem  to  think  that  all  we  want  is  to  be 
loved.  Now,  it  isn't  all  that  I  want.  If  I 
had  to  choose  between  being  loved  by  a  man 
— the  man,  let  us  say — and  not  loving  him 
at  all,  or  loving  him  very  dearly  and  not 
being  loved  by  him,  I  would  choose  the  lat 
ter,  for  I  think  that  more  happiness  comes 
from  loving  than  from  being  loved." 

"  Why  dortt  you  marry  somebody  ?"  I 
asked  in  an  agony  of  entreaty,  for  fear  all 
of  this  would  be  wasted  on  me,  an  Old 
Maid,  rather  than  upon  some  man.  She 
shook  her  head. 

"  It  needs  a  compelling,  not  a  persuasive, 
power  to  win  a  woman.  No  man  who  takes 
me  like  this,"  closing  her  thumb  and  fore 
finger  as  if  holding  a  butterfly,  "  can  have 
me.  The  one  who  dares  to  take  me  like 
this,"  clenching  her  hand,  "will  get  me. 
But  he  will  not  come." 

Then  I  walked  with  her  to  the  door,  and 
she  bent  over  me,  and  whispered  something 
about  my  being  a  "  blessed  comfort "  to  her, 
and  went  away.  Ah,  Tabby,  my  dear,  it  is 
worth  while  being  an  Old  Maid  to  be  a 


WOMEN   AS   LOVERS  41 

blessed  comfort  to  anybody.  But  I  would 
just  like  to  ask  you,  as  a  cat  of  intelligence, 
what  in  the  world  I  did  for  her ! 

Imagine  some  man  making  that  girl  care 
for  him  so  much.  For,  of  course,  it  is  some 
body.  A  girl  does  not  say  such  things  about 
the  abstract  man. 

I  was  in  an  uplifted  state  of  mind  all  day, 
as  I  am  always  after  a  talk  with  Rachel,  and 
when  Percival  came  in  the  evening,  I  felt 
that  I  could  deluge  him  with  my  gathered 
sentiment,  and  he  would  be  receptive.  Be 
sides,  Percival  has  a  positive  genius  for 
understanding.  I  did  not  know  it,  however, 
this  morning.  I  seldom  know  as  much  in 
the  morning  as  I  do  at  night. 

Percival  approves  of  sentiment.  He  said 
once  that  a  life  which  had  principle  and  sen 
timent  needed  little  else,  for  principle  was  to 
stand  upon,  and  sentiment  was  to  beautify 
with.  He  said  this  after  I  had  told  him 
rather  apologetically  that  I  wished  there  was 
more  sentiment  in  the  world,  because  I  liked 
it.  Is  it  strange  that  I  like  Percival  ?  You 
can't  help  admiring  people  who  approve  of 
you. 


42          THE  LOVE   AFFAIRS  OF  AS  OLD   MAID 

Percival  is  a  genius.  People  in  general 
do  not  recognize  this  fact.  He  is  an  inar 
ticulate  genius.  Men  feel  that  he  is  in  some 
occult  way  different  from  them,  yet  they  do 
not  know  just  how.  Nor  will  they  ever  take 
the  trouble  to  study  out  a  problem  in  human 
nature,  either  in  man  or  woman,  unless  they 
are  philosophers. 

Women  care  for  Percival  in  proportion 
to  their  intuitions.  Yon  must  comprehend 
him  synthetically.  You  cannot  dissect  him. 
With  generous  appreciation  and  sympathetic 
encouragement,  PeravaTs  genius  would  be 
come  articulate.  To  discover  it  he  must 
needs  marry — but  he  must  wait  for  the  hun 
dredth  woman.  This,  of  course,  he  will  not 
do.  If  he  can  find  a  Flossy,  he  will  go 
down  on  his  knees  to  her,  when  she  ought 
to  be  on  hers  to  him ;  metaphorical  knees, 
in  this  case. 

I  am  very  much  afraid  he  has  found  her. 
He  is  in  love.  You  can  always  tell  when  a 
man  is  in  love,  Tabby,  especially  if  he  is  not 
the  lovering  kind  and  has  never  been  trou 
bled  in  that  way  before.  The  best  kind  of 
love  has  to  be  so  intuitive  that  it  often  is 


WOMZX  AS  L0mtS  43 

grandly,  heroically  awkward.  Depend  upon 
it,  Tabby,  a  man  who  is  dainty  and  pretty  and 
unspeakably  smooth  when  be  makes  lore  to 
you,  has  had  altogether  too  much  practice. 

Perchral  knows  that  he  is  in  love — that  is 
one  great  step  in  the  right  direction.  Bat 
he  is  in  that  first  partly  alarmed,  partly  cari 
ous  frame  of  mind  that  a  man  would  be  in 
who  touched  his  broken  arm  for  the  first  time 
to  see  how  much  it  hurt  Whoever  she  is, 
he  loves  her  deeply  and  thinks  she  never  can 
care  for  him.  He  did  not  tell  me  this.  If 
he  thought  that  I  knew  it,  he  would  wonder 
how  in  the  world  I  found  it  oat.  Women 
are  born  lovers.  They  have  to  do  the  bulk 
of  the  loving  all  through  the  world.  I  told 
Pertivalso.  At  first  he  seemed  surprised ; 
then  he  said  that  it  was  true.  I  believe 
some  men  could  go  through  fife  without 
loving  anybody  on  earth.  Bat  the  woman 
never  lived  who  could  do  it.  A  woman  must 
love  something — even  if  she  hasn't  anything 
better  to  love  than  a  pug-dog  or  herself. 

"Why  aren't  women  the  choosers?"  said 
Percival  seriously.  The  same  question  twice 
in  one  diyr  Tabby.  •*  Whenever  I  think  of 


44  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD    MAID 

understanding  the  question  of  love,  I  wish 
for  a  woman's  intuitions.  Women  know  so 
much  about  it.  They  absorb  the  whole 
question  at  a  glance.  But,  with  so  many 
different  kinds  of  women,  how  is  a  man  to 
know  anything  ?" 

I  always  liked  Percival,  but  a  woman 
never  likes  a  man  so  well  as  when  he  ac 
knowledges  his  helplessness  in  her  partic 
ular  line  of  knowledge,  and  throws  himself 
on  her  mercy.  Mentally,  I  at  once  began  to 
feel  motherly  towards  Percival,  and  clucked 
around  him  like  an  old  hen.  He  went  on 
to  say  that  men  often  are  not  so  blind  that 
they  cannot  see  the  prejudices  and  complex 
ities  of  a  woman's  nature,  but  they  are  not 
constituted  to  understand  them  by  intuition 
as  women  understand  men.  "The  mascu 
line  mind,"  he  said,  "  is  but  ill-attuned  to 
the  subtle  harmonies  of  the  feminine  heart." 

I  was  secretly  very  much  pleased  at  this 
remark,  but  I  made  myself  answer  as  be 
came  an  Old  Maid,  just  to  make  him  con 
tinue  without  self-consciousness.  If  I  had 
blushed  and  thanked  him,  he  would  have 
gone  home. 


WOMEN   AS   LOVERS  45 

"  They  set  these  things  down  to  the  nat 
ural  curiousness  and  contrariness  of  women, 
and  often  despise  what  they  cannot  com 
prehend." 

He  answered  me  with  the  heightened 
consciousness  and  slight  irritation  of  a  man 
who  has  been  in  that  fault,  but  has  seen  and 
mended  it. 

"All  men  do  not.  Still,  how  can  they 
help  it  at  times  ?" 

Then,  Tabby,  I  went  a-sailing.  I  launched 
out  on  my  favorite  theme. 

"  Men  must  needs  study  women.  Often 
the  terror  with  which  some  men  regard 
these— to  us — perfectly  transparent  com 
plexities,  could  be  avoided  if  they  would 
analyze  the  cause  with  but  half  the  patience 
they  display  in  the  case  of  an  ailing  trotter. 
But  no  ;  either  they  edge  carefully  away 
from  such  dangers  as  they  previously  have 
experienced,  or,  if  they  blunder  into  new 
ones,  they  give  the  woman  a  sealskin  and 
trust  to  time  to  heal  the  breach." 

I  thought  of  the  Asburys  when  I  said  that. 
But  Percival  ruminated  upon  it,  as  if  it 
touched  his  own  case.  A  very  good  thing 


46          THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

about  Percival  is  that  he  does  not  think  he 
knows  everything.  It  encourages  me  to 
believe  in  his  genius.  To  rouse  him  from 
a  brown-study  over  this  Flossy  girl,  I  said 
rather  recklessly, 

"  I  should  like  to  be  a  man  for  a  while, 
in  order  to  make  love  to  two  or  three  wom 
en.  I  would  do  it  in  a  way  which  should 
not  shock  them  with  its  coarseness  or  starve 
them  with  its  poverty.  As  it  is  now,  most 
women  deny  themselves  the  expression  of 
the  best  part  of  their  love,  because  they 
know  it  will  be  either  a  puzzle  or  a  terror 
to  their  lovers." 

Percival  was  vitally  interested  at  once. 

"  Is  that  really  so  ?"  he  asked.  "  Do  you 
suppose  any  of  them  withhold  anything 
from  such  a  fear  ?"  His  face  was  so  uplift 
ed  that  I  plunged  on,  thoroughly  in  the  dark, 
but,  like  Barkis,  "  willin'."  If  I  could  be  of 
use  to  him  in  an  emergency,  I  was  only  too 
happy. 

"  Men  never  realize  the  height  of  the  ped 
estal  where  women  in  love  place  them,  nor 
do  they  know  with  how  many  perfections 
they  are  invested  nor  how  religiously  worn- 


WOMEN  AS  LOVERS  47 

tn  keep  themselves  deceived  on  the  subject. 
They  cannot  comprehend  the  succession  of 
little  shocks  which  is  caused  by  the  real 
man  coming  in  contact  with  the  ideal.  And 
if  they  did  understand,  they  would  think 
that  such  mere  trifles  should  not  affect  the 
genuine  article  of  love,  and  that  women  sim 
ply  should  overlook  foibles,  and  go  on  lov 
ing  the  damaged  article  just  as  blindly  as 
before.  But  what  man  could  view  his  favor 
ite  marble  tumbling  from  its  pedestal  con 
tinually,  and  losing  first  a  finger,  then  an 
arm,  then  a  nose,  and  would  go  on  setting 
it  up  each  time,  admiring  and  reverencing  in 
the  mutilated  remains  the  perfect  creation 
which  first  enraptured  him  ?  He  wouldn't 
take  the  trouble  to  fill  up  the  nicks  and 
glue  on  the  lost  fingers  as  women  do  to 
their  idols.  He  wouldn't  even  try  to  love  it 
as  he  used  to  do.  When  it  began  to  look 
too  battered  up,  he  would  say,  '  Here,  put 
this  thing  in  the  cellar  and  let's  get  it  out 
of  the  way.'  " 

Percival  listened  with  specific  interest, 
and  admitted  its  truth  with  a  fair-minded 
ness  surprising  even  in  him. 


48  THE   I.OVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN    OLD   MAID 

"  Do  you  suppose  it  is  possible  for  a 
man  ever  to  thoroughly  understand  a  wom 
an  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  retrospective  slowness, 
directed,  I  was  sure,  towards  that  empty- 
headed  sweetheart  of  his. 

"  I  really  do  not  know,"  I  said  honestly. 
"  I  think  if  he  tried  with  all  his  might  he 
could." 

"Do  you  think  —  you  know  me  better 
than  any  one  else  does — do  you  think  / 
could,  if  I  gave  my  whole  mind  to  it  ?" 

"  You,  if  anybody."  I  answered  him  with 
the  occasional  absolute  truthfulness  which 
occurs  between  a  man  and  a  woman  when 
they  are  completely  lifted  out  of  themselves. 
Something  more  than  mere  pleasure  shone  in 
his  eyes.  It  was  as  if  I  had  reached  his  soul. 

"  If  no  man  ever  has  been  all  that  a  wom 
an  in  love  really  believes  him,  the  best  a 
man  could  do  would  be  to  take  care  that 
she  never  found  out  her  mistake,"  he  said 
slowly. 

"  Exactly,"  I  said  ;  "  you  are  getting  on. 
It  is  only  another  way  of  making  yourself 
live  up  to  her  ideal  of  you." 

"  Supposing  after  all,  that  the  woman  I 


WOMEN   AS   LOVERS  4Q 

love  will  have  none  of  me,"  he  said,  uncon 
sciously  slipping  from  the  third  person  to 
the  first. 

"  I  wouldn't  admit  even  the  possibility 
if  I  were  a  man.  I  would  besiege  the  fort 
ress.  I  would  sit  on  her  front  doorstep  un 
til  she  gave  in.  Don't  ask  her  to  have  you. 
Tell  her  you  are  going  to  have  her  whether 
or  no,"  I  cried,  thinking  of  Rachel's  words. 
He  looked  so  encouraged  that  I  am  afraid 
I  have  sent  him  post-haste  to  the  Flossy 
girl,  and  gotten  him  into  life-long  trouble. 
But  I  had  gone  too  far.  I  quite  hurried,  in 
my  accidental  endeavor  to  shipwreck  him. 

"  Men  do  not  understand  these  things, 
because  they  will  not  give  time  enough  to 
them.  Real  love-making  requires  the  pa 
tience,  the  tenderness,  the  sympathy  which 
women  alone  possess  in  the  highest  degree. 
Possibly  she  loves  you  deeply,  only  you  do 
not  believe  it.  Gauged  by  a  woman's  love, 
many  men  love,  marry,  and  die,  without  even 
approximating  the  real  grand  passion  them 
selves,  or  comprehending  that  which  they 
have  inspired,  for  no  one  but  a  woman  can 
fathom  a  woman's  love." 


5O  THE   LOVE    AFFAIRS    OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

I  couldn't  help  going  on  after  I  started, 
for  he  was  thinking  of  the  other  woman, 
and  looking  at  me  in  a  way  that  would 
have  made  my  heart  turn  over,  if  I  hadn't 
been  an  Old  Maid,  and  known  that  his  look 
was  not  for  me. 

Then  he  ground  my  rings  into  my  hand 
until  I  nearly  shrieked  with  the  pain,  and 
said,  "  God  bless  you  !"  very  hoarsely,  and 
dashed  out  of  the  house  before  I  could 
pull  myself  together,  /say  so  too.  God 
bless  me,  what  have  I  done  ?  I've  sent  him 
straight  to  that  Flossy  girl.  I  feel  it.  I've 
smoothed  out  something  between  them.  I 
have  accidentally  made  him  articulate,  and 
articulation  in  such  a  man  as  Percival  is 
overpowering.  He  is  a  murdered  man,  and 
mine  is  the  hand  that  slew  him. 

Tabby,  old  maids  are  a  public  nuisance, 
not  to  say  dangerous.  They  ought  to  be 

suppressed. 

***** 

I  wonder  if  he  will  burst  in  upon  her  with 
that  look  upon  his  face ! 


V 

THE   HEART   OF   A   COQUETTE 
"  Strange,  that  a  film  of  smoke  can  blot  a  star!" 

HE  did.  And  the  woman  was — Rachel. 
Tabby,  I  never  was  better  pleased  with  my 
self  in  my  life.  I  love  old  maids.  I  think 
that  whenever  they  are  accidental  they  are 
perfectly  lovely.  But  what  a  risk  I  ran  ! 

I  did  not  know  a  thing  about  it  until  I 
received  their  wedding-cards.  It  was  just 
like  Rachel  not  to  tell  me,  and  it  was  in 
sufferably  stupid  in  me  not  to  use  the  few 
wits  I  am  possessed  of,  and  see  how  matters 
stood.  But  my  fears  and  tremors  were  that 
Frankie  Taliaferro  would  get  him,  so  I  have 
watched  her  all  this  time.  Percival  laughed 
almost  scornfully  when  I  told  him  this,  and 
said  I  had  been  barking  up  the  wrong  tree.  I 
retaliated  by  saying  that  if  they  had  been  or 
dinary  lovers,  I  never  could  have  made  such 


52  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

a  mistake,  and  they  took  it  as  a  great  compli 
ment.  When  I  consider  the  general  run  of 
engaged  people,  I  am  inclined  to  agree  with 
them.  Everybody  seems  to  think  they  are 
making  an  experiment  of  marriage,  because 
they  are  so  much  alike.  But,  then,  doesn't 
every  one  who  marries  at  all,  Jew  or  Gen 
tile,  black  or  white,  bond  or  free,  make  an 
experiment  ?  I  myself  have  no  fear  as  to 
how  the  Percival  experiment  will  turn  out. 
Rachel  says  that  they  are  so  similar  in  all 
their  tastes  and  ideals  that  if  she  were  a 
man  she  would  be  Percival,  and  if  he  were 
a  woman  he  would  be  Rachel.  "  Then  you 
still  would  have  a  chance  to  marry  each 
other,"  I  said  frivolously.  But  she  assent 
ed  with  a  depth  of  feeling  which  ignored  my 
feeble  attempt  to  be  cheerful.  "  Yet,"  she 
continued,  "  there  is  a  subtle,  alluring  differ 
ence  in  our  thoughts ;  just  enough  to  add 
piquancy,  not  irritation,  to  a  discussion.  I 
do  not  love  white,  and  he  does  not  love 
black,  as  so  many  husbands  and  wives  do. 
We  both  love  gray ;  different  tones  of  gray, 
but  still  gray.  It  is  very  restful."  The  Per- 
civals  are  not  only  restful  to  themselves,  but 


THE   HEART   OF   A   COQUETTE  53 

to  others.  They  used  to  be  in  the  highly 
irritable,  nervous  state  of  those  whose  sen 
sitive  organisms  are  a  little  too  fine  for  this 
world.  I  never  objected  to  it  myself,  but  I 
have  said  before  that  Rachel  was  of  no  use 
to  ordinary  society,  and  Percival  was  little 
better.  When  people  failed  to  understand 
her,  she  retired  into  herself  with  a  dignity 
which  was  mistaken  for  ill-temper.  She  is 
too  refined  and  high-minded  to  defend  her 
self  against  the  "slings  and  arrows  of  out 
rageous  "  people,  although  if  she  would,  she 
could  exterminate  them  with  her  wit.  And 
some  could  so  easily  be  spared.  It  seems, 
too,  that  she  is  great  enough  to  be  a  target, 
so  she  is  under  fire  continually.  This,  while 
it  causes  her  exquisite  suffering,  is  from  no 
fault  of  her  own — save  the  unforgivable  one 
of  being  original.  "  A  frog  spat  at  a  glow 
worm.  'Why  do  you  spit  at  me?'  said  the 
glow-worm.  '  Why  do  you  shine  so  ?'  said 
the  frog."  And  as  to  Percival — the  man  I 
used  to  know  was  Percival  in  embryo.  He 
is  maturing  now,  and  is  radiant  in  Rachel's 
sympathetic  comprehension  of  him.  He  re 
fers  to  the  time  before  he  knew  her  as  his 


54  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

"  protoplasmic  state,"  as  indeed  it  was. 
But  there  are  a  good  many  of  us  who  would 
be  willing  to  remain  protoplasm  all  our 
lives  to  possess  a  tithe  of  his  genius— you 
and  I  among  the  number,  Tabby.  You 
needn't  look  at  me  so  reproachfully  out  of 
your  old-gold  eyes.  You  know  you  would. 

You  have  seen  Sallie  Cox,  haven't  you  ? 
Then  you  know  how  it  jarred  my  nerves  to 
have  her  rush  in  upon  me  when  my  mind 
was  full  of  the  Percivals. 

Sallie  has  flirted  joyously  through  life 
thus  far,  and  has  appeared  to  have  about  as 
little  heart  as  any  girl  I  ever  knew.  Sallie 
is  the  sauce piquante  in  one's  life — absolutely 
necessary  at  times  to  make  things  taste  at 
all,  but  a  little  of  her  goes  a  long  way.  At 
least  so  I  thought  until  to-day. 

"I've  got  something  to  tell  you,  Ruth," 
she  said,  "  so  come  with  me,  and  we  will 
take  a  little  drive  before  going  to  cooking- 
school." 

I  went,  knowing,  of  course,  that  she 
wanted  to  confide  something  about  some 
of  her  lovers. 

"  I   am   going  to  be    married,"   she    an- 


THE   HEART   OF   A   COQUETTE  55 

nounced  coldly.  "  It's  Payson  Osborne 
this  time,  and  I'm  really  going  to  see  the 
thing  through.  It's  rather  a  joke  on  me, 
because  it  commenced  this  way.  I  was 
sick  of  lovers,  and  some  of  the  last  had 
been  so  unpleasant,  not  to  say  rude,  when  I 
threw  them  over,  that  I  thought  I  would 
take  a  vacation.  So  when  I  met  Payson,  I 
said, '  What  do  you  say  to  a  Platonic  friend 
ship  ?'  It  sounds  harmless,  you  know,  Ruth, 
and  he,  not  knowing  me  at  all,  assented. 
If  he  had  been  a  man  who  knew  of  my 
checkered  career,  he  would  have  refused, 
suspecting,  of  course,  that  I  was  going  to 
flirt  with  him  under  a  new  name.  But,  as 
I  was  serious  this  time,  I  knew  it  was  all 
right.  So  we  began.  I  suppose  you  know 
he  is  enormously  rich,  besides  being  so 
handsome,  and  there  will  not  be  a  girl  in 
town  who  won't  say  I  raised  heaven  and 
earth  to  get  him ;  but  I  don't  mind  telling 
you,  Ruth — because  you  are  such  an  old 
dear,  and  never  are  bothered  with  lovers  (!) ; 
besides,  it  will  do  me  good  to  tell  it,  and  I 
know  you  will  never  betray  me — that  I  nev 
er  cared  for  any  man  on  earth  except  Win- 


56          THE  LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

ston  Percival.  You  needn't  jump,  and  look 
as  though  the  house  was  on  fire.  It's  the 
solemn  truth,  and  I  never  dreamed  that  he 
cared  for  Rachel  until  he  married  her.  Mind 
you,  he  never  pretended  to  love  me.  It  is 
every  bit  one-sided,  and  I  don't  care  if  it  is. 
I  am  glad  that  a  frivolous,  shallow-minded, 
rattle  -  brained  thing  like  me  had  sense 
enough  to  fall  in  love  with  the  most  glori 
ous  man  that  ever  came  into  her  life,  I 
shouldn't  have  made  him  half  as  good  a 
wife  as  Rachel  does — I  really  feel  as  if  they 
were  made  for  each  other — but  he  would 
have  made  a  woman  of  me.  I'm  honestly 
glad  he  is  so  happy,  and  things  are  much 
more  suitable  as  they  are,  for  Payson  is  a 
thorough-going  society  man,  and  doesn't  ask 
much  in  a  wife  or  he  wouldn't  have  me,  and 
he  doesn't  expect  much  from  a  wife  or  he 
couldn't  get  me. 

Perhaps  you  don't  know  that  a  girl  who 
makes  a  business  of  wearing  scalps  at  her 
belt  never  stands  a  bit  of  a  chance  with  a 
man  she  really  loves,  for  she  is  afraid  to 
practise  on  him  the  wiles  which  she  knows 
from  experience  have  been  successful  with 


THE   HEART   OF   A   COQUETTE  57 

scores  of  others,  because  she  feels  that  he 
will  see  through  them,  and  scorn  her  as  she 
scorns  herself  in  his  presence.  She  loses 
her  courage,  she  loses  control  of  herself, 
and,  being  used  to  depend  on  '  business,'  as 
actors  say,  to  carry  out  her  role  successfully, 
she  finds  that  she  is  only  reading  her  lines, 
and  reading  them  very  badly  too.  If  you 
could  have  seen  me  with  Percival,  you  would 
know  what  I  mean.  I  was  dull,  uninterest 
ing,  poky — no  more  the  Sallie  Cox  that  other 
men  know  than  I  am  you.  He  absorbed  my 
personality.  I  didn't  care  for  myself  or  how 
I  appeared.  I  only  wanted  him  to  shine 
and  be  his  natural,  brilliant  self.  I  never 
could  have  helped  him  in  his  work.  The 
most  I  could  have  hoped  to  do  would  have 
been  not  to  hinder  him.  I  would  have  been 
the  gainer — it  would  have  been  the  act  of  a 
home  missionary  for  him  to  marry  me." 

She  laughed  drearily. 

"  Isn't  it  horribly  immoral  in  me  to  sit 
here  and  talk  in  this  way  about  a  married 
man  ?  It's  a  wonder  it  doesn't  turn  the  color 
of  the  cushions.  If  you  hear  of  my  having 
the  brougham  relined,  Ruth,  you  will  know 


58  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD  MAID 

why.  Ruth,  I  am  so  miserable  at  times  it 
seems  to  me  that  I  shall  die.  I'd  love  to 
cry  this  minute — cry  just  as  hard  as  I  could, 
and  scream,  and  beat  my  head  against  some 
thing  hard — how  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Asbury  ? — 
but  instead,  I  have  to  bow  from  the  windows 
to  people,  and  remember  that  I  am  supposed 
to  be  the  complaisant  bride -elect  of  the 
catch  of  the  season.  It  is  a  judgment  on 
me,  Ruth,  to  find  that  I  have  a  heart,  when 
I  have  always  gone  on  the  principle  that 
nobody  had  any.  Yes — how-de-do,  Miss  Cul- 
pepper  ?  excuse  me  a  minute,  Ruth,  while  I 
hate  that  girl.  What  has  she  done  to  me? 
Oh,  nothing  to  speak  of — she  only  had  the 
bad  taste  to  fall  in  love  with  the  man  I  am 
going  to  marry.  Writes  him  notes  all  the 
time,  making  love  to  him,  which  he  prompt 
ly  shows  to  me — oh,  we  are  not  very  honor 
able,  or  very  upright,  or  very  anything  good 
in  the  Osborne  matrimonial  arrangement. 
Anybody  but  you  would  hate  me  for  all  this 
I've  told  you,  but  I  know  you  are  pitying 
me  with  all  your  soul,  because  you  know 
the  empty-headed  Sallie  Cox  carries  with 
her  a  very  sore  heart,  and  that  it  will  take 


THE   HEART   OF   A   COQUETTE  59 

more  than  Payson  Osborne  has  got  to  give 
to  heal  it.  I  call  him  Pay  sometimes,  but 
he  hates  it.  I  only  do  it  when  I  think  how 
much  he  does  pay  for  a  very  bad  bargain. 
But  he  doesn't  care,  so  why  should  I  ? 

"  It  really  does  seem  odd,  when  I  look  back 
on  it,  to  see  how  easy  it  was  to  get  him,  when 
all  the  time  I  was  perfectly  indifferent  to 
him,  and  received  his  attentions  on  the 
Platonic  basis  to  keep  him  from  making 
love  to  me.  I  really  think  I  never  had  any 
one  to  care  for  me  in  so  exactly  the  way  I 
like,  and  to  be  so  easy  in  his  demands,  and 
to  think  me  so  altogether  perfect  and  charm 
ing,  no  matter  what  I  do.  It  was  because 
I  was  absolutely  indifferent  to  him.  I  nev 
er  cared  when  he  came.  I  never  cared  when 
he  went.  Other  lovers  fussed  and  quar 
relled  and  were  jealous  and  disagreeable 
when  I  flirted  with  other  men,  but  Payson 
never  cared.  He  didn't  tease  me,  you  know. 
And  whenever  he  said  anything,  I  could 
look  innocent  and  say,  'Is  that  Platonic 
friendship  ?'  So  he  would  have  to  sub 
side.  I  know  he  thought  some  of  my  in 
difference  was  assumed,  for  when  he  told 


60          THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

me  about  Miss  Culpepper  he  thought  I 
would  be  vexed.  I  was  vexed,  but  I  had 
presence  of  mind  not  to  show  it.  I  only 
laughed  and  made  no  comment  at  all — 
asked  him  what  time  it  was,  I  believe. 
Then  when  he  looked  so  disappointed  and 
sulky,  I  knew  I  was  right,  and  I  patted  Sallie 
Cox  on  the  head  for  being  so  clever — so 
clever  as  not  to  care,  chiefly.  There  is  noth 
ing,  absolutely  nothing,  you  cannot  do  with 
a  man  who  loves  you,  if  you  don't  care  a 
speck  for  him.  And  the  luxury  of  perfect 
indifference  !  Emotions  are  awfully  wear 
ing,  Ruth.  I  wonder  that  these  emotional 
women  like  Rachel  get  on  at  all.  I  should 
think  they  would  die  of  the  strain.  Men 
are  always  deadly  afraid  of  such  women. 
I  believe  Payson  wouldn't  stop  running  till 
he  got  to  California  if  I  should  burst  into 
tears  and  not  be  able  to  tell  him  instantly 
just  exactly  where  my  neuralgia  had  jumped 
to.  No  unknown  waverings  and  quaverings 
of  the  heart  for  my  good  Osborne.  There 
goes  Alice  Asbury  again.  I  am  dying  to 
tell  you  something.  You  know  why  she 
hates  me,  and  understand  why  she  treats  me 


THE   HEART   OF   A   COQUETTE  6l 

so  abominably  ?  Well,  Asbury  gave  her  the 
same  engagement  ring  he  gave  me,  and  she 
doesn't  know  it.  Rich,  isn't  it  ?  Here  we 
are  at  the  cooking-school.  I  am  so  glad  I 
can  slam  a  carriage-door  without  being  rude. 
It  is  such  a  relief  to  one's  overcharged  feel 
ings." 

Tabby,  dear,  if  your  head  ever  spun  round 
and  round  at  some  of  the  confidences  I  have 
bestowed  upon  you,  I  can  sympathize  with 
you,  for,  as  I  went  into  that  class,  my  feel 
ings  were  so  wrenched  and  twisted  that  I 
was  as  limp  as  cooked  macaroni.  You  will 
excuse  the  simile,  but  that  was  one  of  the 
articles  at  cooking-school  to-day,  and  when 
the  teacher  took  it  up  on  a  fork,  it  did  ex 
press  my  state  of  mind  so  exquisitely  that  I 
cannot  forbear  to  use  it. 

Sallie  Cox !  Well,  I  am  amazed.  Who 
would  think  that  that  bright,  saucy,  clever 
little  flirt,  who  rides  on  the  crest  of  the  wave 
always,  could  have  such  a  heart  history? 
And  Percival  of  all  men  !  I  wonder  what 
he  would  say  if  he  knew.  I  don't  know 
what  to  think  about  her  marrying  Payson 
Osborne.  The  last  thing  she  whispered  to 


62  THE   LOVE    AFFAIRS    OF    AN    OLD    MAID 

me  as  we  came  out  of  cooking-school  was, 
"  Don't  be  too  sorry  for  me  because  I  am 
going  to  marry  him.  Believe  me,  it  is  the 
very  best  thing  that  could  happen  to  me." 

I  am  very  fond  of  the  girl  to-night.  What 
a  pity  it  is  that  everybody  does  not  know 
her  as  she  really  is !  No  one  understands 
her,  and  she  has  flirted  so  outrageously  with 
most  of  the  men  that  the  girls'  friendship 
for  her  is  very  hollow.  A  few,  of  whom 
Alice  Asbury  is  one,  dare  to  show  this  quite 
plainly,  and  of  course  Sallie  doesn't  like  it. 
She  pretends  not  to  care  for  women's  friend 
ship,  but  she  does.  She  would  love  to  be 
friendly  with  all  the  girls,  but  they  remem 
ber  the  misery  she  has  made  them  suffer, 
and  won't  have  it. 

Still,  there  is  no  doubt  that  she  is  marry 
ing  the  man  most  of  them  want,  so  that 
again  she  triumphs.  But,  unless  I  am  much 
mistaken,  even  as  Mrs.  Payson  Osborne  it 
will  take  her  a  long  time  to  recover  her  place 
with  the  women  which  she  has  lost  by  hav 
ing  so  many  of  their  sweethearts  and  broth 
ers  in  love  with  her. 

Ah,  Tabby,  what  a  deal  of  secret  misery 


THE   HEART   OF   A   COQUETTE  63 

there  is  in  the  world  !  Everybody  will  envy 
Sallie  Cox  and  think  that  she  is  the  luckiest 
girl,  and  Sallie  will  smile  and  pretend — for 
what  other  course  is  left  to  her,  and  who 
can  blame  women  who  pretend  under  such 
circumstances  ?  Perhaps  there  are  reasons 
just  as  good  for  many  other  pretenders  in 
this  world.  Who  knows  ?  We  would  be 
gentler  if  we  knew  more. 

There  will  be  other  sore  hearts  besides 
Sallie's  at  her  wedding.  I  had  heard  be 
fore  that  Miss  Culpepper  was  quite  desper 
ate  over  Osborne,  but,  as  she  was  a  girl 
whom  everybody  thought  a  lady,  I  had  no 
idea  that  she  had  gone  so  far  as  Sallie  says. 
Osborne  probably  didn't  object  to  being 
made  love  to.  A  man  of  his  stamp  would 
not  be  over-refined.  Strange,  now,  Sallie 
does  not  love  Osborne  herself,  but  she 
promptly  hates  every  other  girl  who  dares 
to  do  it.  Aren't  girls  queer  ? 

Then  there  are  a  score  of  men  who  will 
gnash  their  teeth  for  Sallie — so  many  men 
love  these  Sallie  Coxes. 

Frankie  Taliaferro,  the  Kentucky  beauty, 
who  is  staying  with  her  this  winter,  tells  me 


64          THE  LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN    OLD   MAID 

that  Sallie  has  had  several  dreadful  scenes 
with  discarded  suitors  —  that  one  said  he 
would  forbid  the  banns,  and  another  threat 
ened  to  shoot  himself  if  she  really  married 
Osborne. 

I  wonder  how  many  marriages  there  real 
ly  are  where  both  are  perfectly  free  to  marry. 
I  mean,  no  secret  entanglements  on  either 
side,  no  other  man  wanting  the  bride,  no 
girl  bitterly  jealous  of  her.  I  never  heard 
of  one — not  among  the  people  /  know,  at 
least. 

Oh,  Tabby,  think  of  all  the  fusses  people 
keep  out  of  who  promptly  settle  down  at 
the  appointed  time  and  become  peaceful  old 
maids.  How  sensible  we  were,  Tabby,  you 
and  Missis. 

But  doesn't  it  seem  to  you  that  people 
marry  from  very  mixed  motives  ?  I  used  to 
have  an  idea — when  I  was  painfully  young, 
of  course — that  they  married  because  they 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  fall  in  love  with  each 
other.  Are  you  quite  sure  that  foolish  no 
tion  is  out  of  your  head  too  ? 


VI 

THE   LONELY   CHILDHOOD    OF  A   CLEVER   CHILD 

"  Is  it  so  bad,  then,  to  be  misunderstood  ?  ...  To 
be  great  is  to  be  misunderstood." 

I  HAVE  been  away  since  early  last  sum 
mer,  and  consequently  never  had  seen  Flos- 
sy's  new  baby  until  the  newness  had  worn 
off,  and  it  had  arrived  at  the  dignity  of  a 
backbone,  and  had  left  its  wobbly  period  far 
behind.  I  am  in  mortal  terror  of  a  very  little 
baby.  It  feels  so  much  like  a  sponge,  yet 
lacks  the  sponge's  recuperative  qualities.  I 
am  always  afraid  if  I  dent  it  the  dents  will 
stay  in.  You  know  they  don't  in  a  sponge. 

As  soon  as  I  came  home,  of  course  I  went 
to  see  Flossy's  baby,  and  was  very  much 
disconcerted  to  discover  that  she  had  named 
it  for  me.  I  was  afraid,  I  remember,  that 
she  would  want  to  name  the  first  girl  for 
me,  but  she  did  not.  She  named  her  after 
5 


66          THE  LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

Rachel.  I  had  an  uncomfortable  idea,  how 
ever,  that  my  name  had  been  discussed  and 
vetoed,  by  either  Flossy  or  Bronson.  But 
this  time  the  baby  is  named  Ruth,  and  I 
found  that  it  was  all  Flossy' s  doing. 

I  was  irritated  without  knowing  why.  I 
didn't  want  anybody  to  know  it  though,  and 
so  I  was  vexed  when  Bronson  said  to  me, 
"  I  couldn't  help  it,  Ruth."  There  was  no 
use  in  pretending  not  to  understand.  I 
could  with  some  men,  but  not  with  Bronson. 
He  is  too  magnificently  honest  himself,  and 
uplifts  me  by  expecting  me  to  be  equally  so. 
Nevertheless  I  failed  him  in  one  particular, 
for  I  answered  him  in  my  loftiest  manner, 
"  I  am  not  at  all  displeased.  It  is  a  great 
compliment,  I  am  sure." 

There  is  nothing  so  uncivil  at  times  as  to 
be  cuttingly  polite.  What  I  said  wasn't  so 
at  all.  But  a  woman  is  obliged  to  defend 
herself  from  a  man  who  reads  her  like  an 
open  book. 

Flossy  does  not  like  children,  and  poor 
little  Rachel  never  has  had  a  life  of  roses. 
Flossy  says  children  are  such  a  care  and  re 
quire  so  much  attention. 


LONELY  CHILDHOOD  OK  A  CLEVER  CHILD    67 

"  Rachel  was  all  that  I  could  attend  to, 
and  here  all  winter  I  have  had  another  one 
on  my  hands  to  keep  me  at  home,  and  make 
me  lose  sleep,  and  grow  old  before  my  time. 
I  don't  see  why  such  burdens  have  to  be  put 
upon  people.  Children  are  too  thick  in  this 
world  any  way." 

She  fretted  on  in  this  strain  for  some 
time,  until  Bronson  looked  up  and  said, 

"  Don't,  Flossy.  You  don't  mean  what 
you  say.  Do  tell  her  the  little  thing  is  wel 
come." 

'•  I  do  mean  what  I  say,"  answered  Flossy. 

Then,  as  Bronson  left  the  room  abruptly, 
Flossy  said, 

"  And  I  was  determined  to  name  her 
after  you.  Bronson  didn't  want  me  to. 
He  said  you  wouldn't  thank  me  for  it,  but 
I  told  him  that  Rachel  Percival  was  quite 
delighted  with  her  namesake." 

I  hid  my  indignantly  smarting  eyes  in  the 
folds  of  the  baby's  dress,  as  I  held  her  up 
before  my  face,  and  made  her  laugh  at  the 
flowers  in  my  hat.  Flossy  thought  I  was 
not  listening  to  her  with  sufficient  interest ; 
so  she  got  up  and  crossed  the  room  with 


68  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

that  little  stumble  of  hers,  which  used  to  be 
so  taking  with  the  men  when  she  was  a  girl, 
and  took  Ruth  away  from  me. 

There  was  a  great  contrast  between  the 
two  children.  Rachel  Herrick  is  a  shy 
child,  with  a  delicate,  refined  face,  lighted 
by  wonderful  gray  eyes  like  Bronson's.  I 
do  not  understand  her.  She  seems  afraid 
of  me,  and  I  confess  I  am  equally  afraid  of 
her.  Even  Rachel  Percival  does  not  get  on 
with  her  very  well,  although  she  has  bravely 
tried.  The  child  spends  most  of  her  time 
in  the  library,  devouring  all  the  books  she 
can  lay  her  hands  on.  Little  Ruth  is  a 
round,  soft,  fluffy  baby,  all  dimples  and 
smiles  and  good -nature,  willing  to  roll  or 
crawl  into  anybody's  lap  or  affections.  A 
very  good  baby  to  exhibit,  for  strangers 
delight  in  her,  and  pet  her  just  as  people 
always  have  petted  Flossy.  Rachel  stands 
mutely  watching  all  such  demonstrations, 
her  pale  face  rigid  with  some  emotion,  and 
her  eyes  brilliant  and  hard.  She  is  not  a 
child  one  would  dare  take  liberties  with. 
No  one  ever  pets  her.  Flossy  complains 
continually  of  her  to  visitors  and  to  Bron- 


LONELY  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  CLEVER  CHILD        69 

son,  so  that  Bronson  has  gotten  into  the 
way  of  reproving  her  mechanically  when 
ever  his  eye  rests  upon  her.  Her  very  pres 
ence,  always  silent,  always  inwardly  critical, 
seems  to  irritate  her  parents.  She  was  not 
doing  a  thing,  but  sitting  sedately,  with  a 
heavy  book  on  her  lap,  watching  the  baby, 
with  that  curious  expression  on  her  face ; 
but  Flossy  couldn't  let  her  alone. 

"  Baby  loves  her  mother,  doesn't  she  ? 
She  is  not  like  naughty  sister  Rachel,  who 
won't  do  anything  but  read,  and  never  loves 
anybody  but  herself.  Sister  says  bad  things 
to  poor  sick  mamma,  and  mamma  can't  love 
her,  can  she  ?  But  mamma  loves  her  pretty, 
sweet  baby,  so  she  does." 

Rachel  glanced  at  me  with  a  hunted  look 
in  her  eyes  which  wrung  my  heart.  But,  be 
fore  I  could  think,  she  slid  down  and  the 
big  book  fell  with  a  crash  to  the  floor.  She 
ran  towards  the  baby  with  a  wicked  look  on 
her  small  face,  and  the  baby  leaped  and  held 
out  its  hands,  but  Rachel  clenched  her  teeth, 
and  slapped  the  outstretched  hand  as  she 
rushed  past  her  and  out  of  the  room. 

Poor  little  Ruth  looked  at  the  red  place 


7O  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF    AN    OLD    MAID 

on  her  hand  a  minute,  then  her  lip  quivered, 
and  she  began  to  cry  pitifully. 

I  instinctively  looked  to  see  Flossy  gather 
her  up  to  comfort  her.  It  is  so  easy  to  dry 
a  child's  tears  with  a  little  love.  But  she 
rang  for  the  nurse  and  fretfully  exclaimed, 

"Isn't  that  just  like  her!  I  declare  I 
can't  see  why  a  child  of  mine  should  have 
such  a  wicked  temper.  Here,  Simpson,  take 
this  young  nuisance  and  stop  her  crying. 
Oh,  poor  little  me  !  Ruth,  I'm  thankful  that 
you  have  no  children  to  wear  your  life  out." 

I  dryly  remarked  that  I  too  considered 
it  rather  a  cause  for  gratitude,  and  came 
away. 

Poor  little  Rachel  Herrick !  Unlovely 
as  her  action  was,  I  cannot  help  thinking 
that  it  was  unpremeditated ;  that  it  was  the 
unexpected  result  of  some  strong  inward 
feeling.  She  looked  like  one  who  was  just 
ly  indignant,  and,  considering  what  Flossy 
had  said,  I  felt  that  her  anger  was  right 
eous.  That  her  disposition  is  unfortunate 
cannot  be  denied.  She  seems  already  to 
be  an  Ishmaelite,  for  whenever  she  speaks 
it  is  to  fling  out  a  remark  so  biting  in  its 


LONELY  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  CLEVER  CHILD        71 

sarcasm,  so  bitter  and  satirical,  that  Flos 
sy  is  afraid  of  her,  and  Bronson  reproves 
her  with  unnecessary  severity,  because  her 
offence  is  that  of  a  grown  person,  which 
her  childish  stature  mocks.  Other  children 
both  fear  and  hate  her.  They  resent  her 
cleverness.  They  like  to  use  her  wits  to 
organize,  their  plays,  but  they  never  include 
her,  for  she  always  wants  to  lead,  feeling, 
doubtless,  that  she  inherently  possesses  the 
qualities  of  a  leader,  and  chafing,  as  a  he 
roic  soul  must,  under  inferior  management. 
Flossy  makes  her  go  out  to  play  regular 
ly  with  them  every  day,  but  it  is  a  pitiful 
sight,  for  she  feels  her  unpopularity,  and 
children  are  cruel  to  each  other  with  the 
cruelty  of  vindictive  dulness;  so  Rachel, 
after  standing  about  among  them  forlornly 
for  a  while,  like  a  stray  robin  among  a  flock 
of  little  owls,  conies  creeping  in  alone,  and 
sits  down  in  the  library  with  a  book.  She 
is  the  loneliest  child  I  ever  knew.  If  she 
cared,  people  would  at  least  be  sorry  for 
her;  but  she  seems  to  love  no  one,  never 
seeks  sympathy  if  she  is  hurt,  repels  all  at 
tempts  to  ease  pain,  and  cures  herself  with 


72  THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS  OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

her  beloved  books.  I  never  saw  any  one 
kiss  or  offer  to  pet  her,  but  they  make  a 
great  fuss  over  the  baby,  and  Rachel  watch 
es  them  with  glittering  eyes.  I  thought  once 
that  it  was  jealousy,  and,  going  up  to  her, 
laid  my  hand  on  her  head,  but  she  shook  it 
off  as  if  it  had  been  a  viper,  and  ran  out  of 
the  room. 

I  had  grown  very  fond  of  my  namesake, 
and  used  to  go  there  when  Flossy  was  away, 
and  sit  in  the  nursery.  The  nurse  told  me 
once  that  Mrs.  Herrick  saw  so  little  of  the 
baby  that  it  was  afraid,  and  cried  at  the 
sight  of  her.  I  reproved  her  for  speaking 
in  that  manner  of  her  mistress,  but  she  only 
tossed  her  head  knowingly,  and  I  dropped 
the  subject.  Servants  often  are  aware  of 
more  than  we  give  them  credit  for. 

Saturday  before  Easter  I  stopped  at  Flos- 
sy's,  but  she  was  not  at  home.  I  left  some 
flowers  for  her,  and  asked  to  see  the  baby, 
but  the  nurse  said  she  was  asleep. 

Easter  morning  I  did  not  go  to  church, 
and  Rachel  Percival  came  early  in  the  af 
ternoon  to  see  if  I  were  ill.  While  she 
was  here  this  note  arrived  by  a  messenger : 


LONELY  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  CLEVER  CHILD   73 

"DEAR  RUTH, — I  know  you  will  grieve  for  me 
when  I  tell  you  that  our  baby  went  away  from  us 
quite  suddenly  this  morning,  while  the  Easter  bells 
were  ringing  so  joyfully.  They  rang  the  knell  of  a 
mother's  heart,  for  they  rang  my  baby's  spirit  into 
Paradise. 

"  I  feel,  through  my  tears,  that  it  is  better  so,  for 
she  will  bind  me  closer  to  Heaven  when  I  think  that 
she,  in  her  purity,  awaits  me  there. 

"  Hoping  to  see  you  very  soon,  I  am 

"  Your  loving  FLOSSY. 

"  P.S. — Bronson  seems  to  feel  the  baby's  death  to 
a  truly  astonishing  degree.  F.  H." 

I  flung  the  note  across  to  Rachel,  and, 
putting  my  head  down  on  my  two  arms,  I 
cried  just  as  hard  as  I  could  cry. 

Rachel  read  it,  then  tore  it  into  twenty 
bits,  and  ground  her  heel  into  the  frag 
ments. 

"  Why,  Rachel  Percival !  what  is  the  mat 
ter  ?" 

"  She  wasn't  even  at  home.  She  was  at 
church.  She  must  have  been.  She  told  me 
that  Bronson  was  afraid  to  have  her  leave 
the  baby,  and  wouldn't  come  himself,  but 
that  she  didn't  think  anything  was  the  mat 
ter  with  it,  and  wouldn't  be  tied  down.  Then 


74  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

such  a  note  so  soon  afterwards  !  Ruth,  what 
is  that  woman  made  of  ?" 

We  went  together  to  Flossy's.  She  came 
across  the  room  to  meet  us,  supported  by 
Bronson.  She  stumbled  two  or  three  times 
in  the  attempt.  Tears  were  running  down 
Bronson's  face,  and  he  wiped  them  away 
quite  humbly,  as  if  he  did  not  mind  our  see 
ing  them  in  the  least.  I  could  not  bear  to 
watch  him,  so  I  slipped  out  of  the  room  and 
went  upstairs. 

"  In  here,  'm,"  said  the  nurse ;  "  and  Miss 
Rachel  is  here  too.  She  won't  move  that 
far  from  the  cradle,  and  she  hasn't  shed  a 
tear." 

Ruth  lay  peacefully  in  her  little  lace  crib, 
covered  with  violets,  and  beside  her.  rigid 
and  white  and  tearless,  stood  Rachel.  I 
was  almost  afraid  of  the  child  as  I  looked 
at  her.  She  turned  her  great  eyes  upon 
me  dumbly,  with  so  exactly  Bronson's  ex 
pression  in  them  that  all  at  once  I  under 
stood  her.  I  knelt  down  beside  her,  and 
gathering  her  little  tense  frame  all  up  in 
my  arms,  I  began  whispering  to  her.  The 
tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks,  and  soon 


LONELY  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  CLEVER  CHILD    75 

she  was  crying  hysterically.  Bronson  came 
bounding  upstairs  at  the  sound,  but  she 
seized  me  more  tightly  around  the  neck 
and  held  me  chokingly.  I  motioned  him 
back,  and  succeeded  in  carrying  her  away 
to  a  quiet  place,  where  I  sat  down  with  her 
in  my  arms,  and  made  love  to  her  for  hours. 

I  never  heard  a  more  pitiful  story  than 
she  told  me,  between  strangling  sobs,  of  her 
hungry  life.  The  child  has  been  yearning 
for  affection  a*Il  the  time,  but  has  uncon 
sciously  repelled  it  by  her  manner.  She 
said  nobody  on  earth  loved  her  except  the 
baby,  and  now  the  baby  was  dead. 

"There  is  no  use  of  your  trying  to  make 
things  different,"  she  said,  "  especially  with 
mamma.  She  wouldn't  care  if  I  was  dead 
too.  But  papa  could  understand,  I  think, 
if  he  would  only  try  to  love  me.  But  I  love 
you — oh  !  I  love  you  so  much  that  it  hurts 
me.  Nobody  ever  came  and  hugged  me  up 
the  way  you  did,  in  my  whole  life.  You  have 
made  things  over  for  me,  and  I'll  love  you 
for  it  till  I  die.  Why  is  it  that  everybody 
gives  mamma  and  the  baby  so  much  love, 
when  they  never  cared  for  it,  and  I  care  so 


76          THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

much  and  never  get  a  single  bit  ?  Nobody 
understands  me,  and  every  one — every  one 
calls  me  bad.  I'm  not  bad.  I  love  plenty 
of  people  who  can't  love  me.  I  am  not  bad, 
I  tell  you !" 

She  cried  herself  nearly  sick,  and  then, 
exhausted,  fell  asleep,  with  her  face  pressed 
against  mine.  Thus  Bronson  found  us.  He 
offered  to  take  her,  and  I  put  her  into  his 
arms.  Then  I  told  him  all  that  she  had 
said,  and  asked  him  to  hold  her  until  she 
wakened,  and  give  her  some  of  the  love  her 
little  heart  was  hungering  for.  He  couldn't 
speak  when  I  finished,  and  I  went  down,  to 
find  Rachel  bathing  Flossy's  head  with  co 
logne,  and  looking  worn  and  tired. 

Percival  came  for  Rachel,  and  one  could 
see  that  the  mere  sight  of  him  rested  her. 
She  told  him  all  about  it,  in  her  wonderfully 
comprehensive  way,  and  he  felt  the  whole 
thing,  and  we  were  all  very  quiet  and  peace 
ful  and  sad,  as  we  drove  home  through  the 
early  darkness  of  that  Easter  day. 

They  left  me  at  my  door,  and  I  went  in 
alone,  with  the  memory  of  that  grieving 
household — the  lonely  father,  and  the  self- 


LONELY  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  CLEVER  CHILD   77 

ish  mother,  and  the  unloved  child — hallowed 
and  made  tender  by  the  presence  of  the 
little  dead  baby,  asleep  under  its  weight  of 
violets. 

I  feel  very  much  alone  sometimes ;  but 
the  Percivals  carry  their  world  with  them. 


VII 

A   STUDY   IN   HUMAN   GEESE 
"  I  am  myself  indifferent  honest." 

I  HAVE  just  made  two  startling  discov 
eries.  One  is  that  I  am  not  honest  myself, 
and  the  other  is  that  I  detest  honesty  in 
other  people. 

To-day  I  was  sitting  peacefully  in  my 
room,  harming  nobody,  when  I  saw  little 
Pet  Winterbotham  drive  up  in  her  cart  and 
come  running  up  to  the  door.  I  supposed 
she  had  come  with  a  message  from  her  sis 
ter,  and  went  down,  thinking  to  be  detained 
about  ten  minutes. 

It  seems  but  a  few  years  ago  since  Pet 
was  in  the  kindergarten.  I  was  surprised 
to  see  that  she  wore  her  dresses  very  long, 
and  that  she  looked  almost  grown  up. 

"  My  dear  Pet,"  I  exclaimed,  "  what  is  the 
matter?" 


A   STUDY   IN   HUMAN   GEESE  79 

"  Oh,  Miss  Ruth,  I  am  in  such  a  scrape," 
she  answered  me.  "  I  hope  you  won't  think 
it's  queer  that  I  came  to  you,  but  the  fact  is, 
I've  watched  you  in  church,  and  you  always 
look  as  if  you  knew,  and  would  help  people 
if  they  would  ask  you  to ;  so  I  thought  I'd 
try  you. 

"  Ever  and  ever  so  long  ago,  when  I  was 
a  little  bit  of  a  thing,  and  played  with  other 
children,  and  you  and  sister  Grace  went  out 
together,  I  used  to  'choose'  you  from  all 
the  other  young  ladies,  because  you  wore 
such  lovely  hats,  and  always  had  on  pearl- 
colored  gloves.  I  suppose  it  is  so  long  ago 
that  you  were  a  young  lady  and  had  beaux 
that  you've  forgotten  it.  But  I  know  you 
used  to  have  lovers,  for  I  heard  Mrs.  Her- 
rick  and  Mrs.  Payson  Osborne  talking  about 
you  once,  and  Mrs.  Herrick  said  you  seemed 
so  tranquil  and  contented  that  she  supposed 
you  never  had  had  any  really  good  offers,  or 
you  would  be  all  the  time  wishing  you  had 
taken  one.  And  Mrs.  Osborne  spoke  up  in 
her  quick  way,  and  said,  '  Don't  deceive 
yourself  so  comfortably,  my  dear  Flossy.  I 
know  positively  that  Ruth  has  had  several 


80          THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

offers  that  you  and  I  would  have  jumped 
at.'  And  then  she  turned  away  and  laughed 
and  laughed,  although  I  didn't  see  anything 
so  very  funny  in  what  she  said,  and  neither 
did  Mrs.  Herrick. 

"  I  do  think  Mrs.  Osborne  is  the  loveli 
est  person  I  know.  She  is  my  ideal  young 
married  woman.  She  always  has  a  smile 
and  a  pretty  word  for  every  one,  and  young 
men  like  her  better  than  they  do  the  buds. 
Why,  your  face  is  as  red  as  fire.  I  hope  I 
haven't  said  anything  unpleasant.  Mamma 
says  I  blunder  horribly,  but  she  always  is 
too  busy  to  tell  me  how  not  to  blunder. 

"Now,  I  want  to  know  which  of  these 
two  men  you  would  advise  me  to  marry. 
I've  got  to  take  one,  I  suppose." 

"  Marry !"  I  exclaimed,  so  explosively  that 
Pet  started.  "Why,  child,  how  old  are 
you  ?" 

"I'm  nineteen,"  she  said,  in  rather  an  in 
jured  tone,  "and  I've  always  made  up  my 
mind  to  marry  young,  if  I  got  a  good  enough 
offer.  I  hate  old  maids.  Oh,  excuse  me. 
I  don't  mean  you,  of  course.  I  wouldn't 
marry  a  clerk,  you  understand,  just  to  be 


A   STUDY    IN   HUMAN    GEESE  Si 

marrying.  I'm  not  so  silly.  I  have  plenty 
of  common-sense  in  other  things,  and  I'm 
going  to  put  some  of  it  into  the  marriage 
question.  Don't  you  think  I'm  sensible  ?" 

"  Very,"  I  answered  ;  but  I  didn't,  Tab 
by".     I  thought  she  was  a  goose. 

"  Well  now,"  proceeded  my  young  caller, 
settling  her  ribbons  with  a  pretty  air  of  im 
portance,  and  looking  at  me  out  of  the  most 
innocent  eyes  in  the  world,  "  my  sister 
Grace  married  Brian  Beck  because  he  had 
such  a  lot  of  money.  But  you  know  he  is 
dissipated,  and  at  first  Grace  almost  went 
distracted.  Then  she  made  up  her  mind  to 
let  him  go  his  own  gait,  and  she  has  as 
good  a  time  as  she  can  on  his  money.  His 
Irish  name  Brian  is  her  thorn  in  the  flesh, 
and  he  teases  her  nearly  out  of  her  wits 
about  it.  We  have  great  fun  on  the  yacht 
every  summer.  Brian  is  awfully  good  to  me, 
and  invites  nice  men  to  take  with  us ;  still, 
much  as  I  like  Brian  as  a  brother-in-law,  I 
shouldn't  care  to  have  a  husband  like  him. 
Now,  I  suppose  you  wonder  why  on  earth  I 
am  telling  you  these  things,  and  why  I  don't 
tell  one  of  the  girls  I  go  with." 
6 


82  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

"  Oh,  no !"  I  exclaimed  in  protest. 

"  Of  course.  I  see  you  think  it  wouldn't 
be  safe.  Girls  just  can't  help  telling,  to  save 
their  lives.  Sometimes  they  don't  intend  to, 
and  then  it's  bad  enough.  But  sometimes 
they  do  it  just  to  be  mean,  and  you  can't 
help  yourself.  I  have  plenty  of  confidence 
in  you  though,  and  you  don't  look  as  if 
you'd  be  easily  shocked.  You  look  as 
though  you  could  tell  a  good  deal  if  you 
wanted  to.  You're  an  awfully  comfortable 
sort  of  a  person.  Now,  let  me  tell  you.  I 
have  two  offers.  One  is  from  Clinton  Frost, 
and  the  other  is  from  Jack  Whitehouse. 
You  have  seen  me  with  Mr.  Frost,  haven't 
you  ?  A  dark,  fierce,  melancholy  man,  with 
black  eyes  and  hair,  and  very  distinguished 
looking. 

"  I  think  he  has  a  history.  He  throws 
out  hints  that  way.  He  is  gloomy  with 
everybody  but  me,  and  Brian  will  do  noth 
ing  but  joke  with  him.  There  is  nothing 
Mr.  Frost  dislikes  as  much  as  to  laugh  or 
to  see  other  people  laugh.  Brian  calls  him 
'  Pet's  nightmare,'  and  threatens  to  give  him 
ink  to  drink. 


A   STUDY   IN    HUMAN  GEESE  83 

"  I  believe  Mr.  Frost  hates  Brian.  He 
says  the  name  of  our  yacht,  Hittie  Magin,  is 
unspeakably  vulgar.  Nothing  pleases  Brian 
more  than  to  force  Mr.  Frost  or  Grace  to 
tell  strangers  the  name  of  it.  Their  mere 
speaking  the  words  throws  Brian  into  con 
vulsions  of  laughter.  Then,  if  people  com 
ment  on  it,  he  tells  them  that  the  name  is  of 
his  wife's  selection,  in  deference  to  his  Irish 
family.  And  Grace  almost  faints  with  mor 
tification.  Mr.  Frost  says  he  will  give  me  a 
yacht  twice  as  good  as  Brian's.  He  adores 
me.  He  says  I  am  the  only  thing  in  life 
which  makes  him  smile." 

I  felt  that  I  could  sympathize  with  Mr. 
Frost  on  this  point. 

"Then  there's  Jack  Whitehouse,  Norris 
Whitehouse's  nephew.  Mr.  Norris  White- 
house  is  a  great  friend  of  yours,  isn't  he  ? 
Do  you  know,  I  never  think  of  him  as  an 
'eligible,'  although  he  is  a  bachelor.  I 
should  as  soon  think  of  a  king  in  that  light. 
He  impresses  me  more  than  any  man  I  ever 
knew.  Don't  you  consider  him  odd  ?  No  ? 
I  do.  He  is  so  clever  that  you  would  be 
afraid  of  him,  if  it  wasn't  for  his  lovely  man- 


84          THE  J,OVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

ners,  which  make  you  feel  as  though  what 
you  are  saying  is  just  what  he  has  been 
wanting  to  know,  and  he  is  so  glad  he  has 
met  some  one  who  is  able  to  tell  him.  Act 
ually  he  treats  me  with  more  respect  than 
some  of  the  young  men  do.  He  makes  me 
feel  as  if  I  were  a  woman,  and  he  had  a 
right  to  expect  something  good  of  me.  I 
never  said  that  to  anybody  before,  but  I  can 
talk  to  you  and  feel  that  you  understand 
me.  I  like  to  feel  that  people  think  there  is 
something  to  me,  even  if  I  know  that  it  isn't 
much.  Mrs.  Asbury  says  that  Mr.  White- 
house  is  the  courtliest  man  she  knows.  You 
know  the  story  of  the  Whitehouse  money, 
don't  you  ?  Jack  told  it  to  me  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  and  I  don't  wonder  at  it.  You 
know  Jack's  father  and  mother  died  when 
he  was  very  young.  Norris  was  his  father's 
favorite,  and  the  old  gentleman  made  a  most 
unjust  will,  leaving  only  a  life  interest  in 
the  property  to  Jack's  father ;  then  it  all 
went  to  his  favorite  younger  son,  Norris. 
Now,  you  know  what  most  men  would  do 
under  the  circumstances.  They  would  ac 
knowledge  the  injustice  of  the  will,  but  they 


A    STUDY    IN    HUMAN    GEESE  85 

would  keep  the  money.  This  proves  to  me 
what  an  unusual  man  Mr.  Norris  White- 
house  is,  for  he  immediately  made  over  to 
his  little  nephew  Jack  one  half  of  the  prop 
erty — just  what  his  father  ought  to  have 
been  able  to  leave  him — and  Jack  is  to 
come  into  that  when  he  is  twenty -five. 
Don't  you  think  that  was  noble  ?  Jack 
worships  him.  He  says  no  father  could 
have  been  more  devoted  to  an  only  son 
than  his  uncle  Norris  has  been  to  him.  He 
travelled  with  him,  and  gave  up  years  of  his 
life  to  superintending  Jack's  education. 

"  Now,  whoever  marries  Jack  will  really 
be  at  the  head  of  that  elegant  house,  for 
you  know  it  hasn't  had  a  mistress  since 
Jack's  mother  died,  years  ago.  I  should 
like  that,  although  I  do  wish  more  of  the  ex 
pense  was  in  furniture  instead  of  in  pictures 
and  tapestries.  But  that  is  his  uncle's  taste. 

"  Poor  Jack  talks  so  beautifully  about  his 
young  mother,  whom  he  can  scarcely  remem 
ber.  He  says  his  uncle  has  kept  her  alive 
to  him.  He  is  perfectly  lovely  with  other 
fellows'  mothers,  and  with  mine.  He  treats 
them  all,  he  says,  as  he  should  like  to  have 


86  THE    LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF    AN    OLD    MAID 

had  others  treat  his  mother.  Of  course  it  is 
only  sentiment  with  him.  If  she  had  lived, 
he  might  have  given  her  as  much  trouble 
as  other  boys  give  theirs.  She  must  have 
been  lovely.  Mamma  says  she  was.  But 
I'd  just  as  soon  not  have  any  mother-in-law 
to  tell  me  to  wrap  up,  and  wear  rubbers  if  it 
looked  like  rain.  You  know  there  isn't  a 
bit  of  sentiment  in  me.  I'm  practical.  My 
father  says  if  I  had  been  a  boy  he  would 
have  taken  me  into  business  at  fifteen. 
Jack  thinks  I  am  all  sentiment.  He  says 
nobody  could  have  a  face  like  mine  and 
not  possess  an  innate  love  of  the  beautiful 
in  art  and  poetry  and  all  that.  I  have  for 
gotten  just  what  he  said  about  that  part  of 
it.  But  I  know  he  meant  to  praise  me.  I 
didn't  say  anything  in  reply,  but  I  smiled 
to  myself  at  the  idea  of  Pet  Winterbotham 
being  credited  with  fine  sentiment. 

"Jack  is  horribly  young — only  twenty- 
two — so  he  won't  have  his  money  for  three 
years,  and  Mr.  Frost  is  thirty-nine.  Jack 
has  curly  hair,  and  when  he  wears  a  white 
tennis  suit  and  puts  his  cap  on  the  back  of 
his  head  and  holds  a  cigarette  in  his  hand, 


A   STUDY   IN   HUMAN   GEESE  87 

he  looks  as  if  he  had  just  stepped  out  of 
one  of  the  pictures  in  Life.  He  looks  so 
'  chappie.'  He  is  a  good  deal  easier  to  get 
along  with  than  Mr.  Frost,  and  will  have 
more  money  some  day,  although  Mr.  Frost 
has  enough.  Now,  which  would  you  take  ?" 

"Why,  my  dear  Pet,"  I  said  in  an  un 
guarded  moment,  "  which  do  you  love  ?" 

I  shrivelled  visibly  under  the  look  of 
scorn  she  cast  upon  me. 

"  I  don't  love  either  of  them.  I've  had 
one  love  affair  and  I  don't  care  for  another 
until  I  make  sure  which  man  I'm  going  to 
marry." 

"  Can  you  fall  in  love  to  order  ?"  I  asked 
in  dismay. 

"Not  exactly.  'To  order!'  Why,  no. 
Anybody  would  think  you  were  having 
boots  made.  But  it's  being  with  a  man, 
and  having  him  awfully  good  to  you,  and 
admiring  everything  you  say,  and  having 
lots  of  good  clothes,  and  not  being  in  love 
with  any  other  fellow,  that  makes  you  love  a 
man.  I'm  sure  from  your  manner  that  you 
like  Jack  Whitehouse  the  best,  so  I  think 
I'll  take  him.  You  are  awfully  sweet,  and 


88          THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

not  a  bit  like  an  old  maid.  I  tell  every 
body  so." 

"  Am  I  called  an  Old  Maid  ?"  I  asked 
quickly.  I  could  have  bitten  my  tongue 
out  for  it  afterwards. 

"  Oh,  yes  indeed,  by  all  the  younger  set. 
You  see  you  belonged  to  Grace's  set  and 
they  are  all  married.  It  makes  you  seem 
like  a  back  number  to  us,  but  you  don't  look 
like  an  old  maid.  I  suppose  you  can  look 
back  ages  and  ages  and  remember  when 
you  had  lovers,  can't  you  ?  Or  have  you 
forgotten  ?  I  can't  imagine  you  ever  getting 
love-letters  or  flowers  or  any  such  things. 
I  hope  I  haven't  offended  you.  I  am  hor 
ribly  honest,  you  know.  I  say  just  what  I 
think,  and  you  mustn't  mind  it.  Mamma 
says  I  am  too  truthful  to  be  pleasant.  But 
I  like  honesty  myself,  don't  you  ?" 

And  with  that,  Tabby,  she  went  away. 

How  terrible  the  child  is !  Now,  Pet  is 
one  of  those  persons  who  go  about  lacerating 
people  and  clothing  their  ignorance,  or  their 
insolence,  in  the  garb  of  honesty. 

"  I  am  honest,"  say  they,  "  so  you  must 
not  be  offended,  but  is  it  true  that  your 


A    STUDY    IN    HUMAN    GEESE  89 

grandfather  was  hanged  for  being  a  pi 
rate  ?"  Or,  "  I  believe  in  being  perfectly 
honest  with  people.  How  cross-eyed  you 
are !" 

This  is  why  honesty  is  so  disreputable. 
When  you  say  of  a  woman,  "  She  is  one  of 
those  honest,  outspoken  persons,"  it  means 
that  she  will  probably  hurt  your  feelings, 
or  insult  you  in  your  first  interview  with 
her. 

I  don't  like  to  admit  it  even  to  you,  Tab 
by,  but  I  am  horribly  shaken  up.  After  all 
these  years  of  talking  about  myself  to  you 
as  an  Old  Maid,  and  knowing  that  I  am 
one,  to  hear  myself  called  such,  and  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  way  I  appear  to  the  on 
coming  generation,  shakes  me  to  the  founda 
tion  of  my  being.  Soon  /  shall  be  pushed 
to  the  wall,  as  something  too  worn  out  to 
be  needed  by  bright  young  people.  Soon  / 
shall  be  one  of  the  old  people  whom  I  have 
so  dreaded  all  my  life.  Dear  Tabby-cat! 
You  can  remember  when  Missis  received 
love-letters,  can't  you?  They  are  not  all 
in  the  japanned  box,  are  they?  Do  I  seem 
old  to  you,  kitty  ?  Why,  there  is  actually  a 


go          THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

tear  on  your  gray  fur.      Dear  me,  what  a 
silly  Old  Maid  Missis  is ! 

You  see,  after  all,  I  have  not  been  honest, 
even  with  myself.  And,  just  between  you 
and  me,  I  will  say  that  I  abominate  honesty 
in  other  people.  There  ! 


VIII 

A   GAME  OF  HEARTS 
"  Man  proposes,  but  Heaven  disposes." 

TABBY,  did  you  ever  hear  me  speak  of 
Charlie  Hardy  ?  No,  of  course  not.  Your 
mother  must  have  been  a  kitten  when  I 
knew  Charlie  the  best.  He  is  a  nice  boy. 
Boy !  What  am  I  talking  about  ?  He  is  as 
old  as  I  am.  But  he  is  the  kind  of  man 
who  always  seems  a  boy,  and  everybody 
who  has  known  him  two  days  calls  him 
Charlie. 

Rachel  Percival  never  thought  much  of 
him.  She  said  he  was  weak,  and  weak 
ness  in  a  man  is  something  Rachel  never 
excuses.  She  says  it  is  trespassing  on  one 
of  the  special  privileges  of  our  sex.  Thus 
she  disposed  of  Charlie  Hardy. 

"  Look  at  his  chin,"  said  Rachel ;  "  could 
a  man  be  strong  with  a  chin  like  that  ?" 


Q2  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD    MAID 

"  But  he  is  so  kind-hearted  and  easy  to 
get  along  with,"  I  urged. 

"Very  likely.  He  hasn't  strength  of 
mind  to  quarrel.  He  is  unwilling,  like  most 
easy-going  men,  to  inflict  that  kind  of  pain. 
But  he  could  be  as  cruel  as  the  grave  in 
other  ways.  Look  at  him.  He  always  is 
in  hot  water  about  something,  and  never 
does  as  people  expect  him  to  do." 

"  But  he  doesn't  do  wrong  on  purpose, 
and  he  makes  charming  excuses  and  apol 
ogies." 

"  He  ought  to ;  he  has  had  enough  prac 
tice,"  answered  Rachel,  with  her  beautiful 
smile.  "  He  has  what  I  call  a  conscience 
for  surface  things.  He  regards  life  from 
the  wrong  point  of  view,  and,  as  to  his  al 
ways  intending  to  do  right  —  you  know  the 
place  said  to  be  paved  with  good  intentions. 
No,  no,  Ruth.  Charlie  Hardy  is  a  danger 
ous  man,  because  he  is  weak.  Through 
such  men  as  he  comes  very  bitter  sorrow 
in  this  world." 

That  conversation,  Tabby,  took  place,  if 
not  before  you  were  created,  at  least  in 
your  early  infancy — the  time  when  your  own 


A    GAME    OF    HEARTS  Q3 

weight  threw  you  down  if  you  tried  to  walk, 
and  when  ears  and  tail  were  the  least  of 
your  make-up. 

All  these  years  Charlie  has  never  married, 
but  was  always  with  the  girls.  He  dropped 
with  perfect  composure  from  our  set  to 
Sallie  Cox's — was  her  slave  for  two  years, 
though  Sallie  declares  that  she  never  was 
engaged  to  him.  "  What's  the  use  of  being 
engaged  to  a  man  that  you  can  keep  on 
hand  without  ?"  quoth  Sallie.  But  Charlie 
bore  no  malice.  "  I  didn't  stand  the  ghost 
of  a  show  with  a  girl  like  Sallie,  when  she 
had  such  men  as  Winston  Percival  and  those 
literary  chaps  around  her.  It  was  great 
sport  to  watch  her  with  those  men.  You 
know  what  a  little  chatterbox  she  is.  By 
Jove !  when  that  fellow  Percival  began  to 
talk,  Sallie  never  had  a  word  to  say  for  her 
self.  It  must  have  been  awfully  hard  for 
her,  but  she  certainly  let  him  do  all  the 
talking,  and  just  sat  and  listened,  looking  as 
sweet  as  a  peach.  Oh  !  I  never  had  any 
chance  with  Sallie." 

Nevertheless,  he  was  usher  at  her  wed 
ding,  then  dropped  peacefully  to  the  next 


94  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS  OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

younger  set,  and  now  is  going  with  girls  of 
Pet  Winterbotham's  age. 

I  thoroughly  like  the  boy,  but  I  can't  im 
agine  myself  falling  in  love  with  him.  If  I 
were  married  to  another  man  —  an  indis 
creet  thing  for  an  Old  Maid  to  say,  Tabby, 
but  I  only  use  it  for  illustration — I  should 
not  mind  Charlie  Hardy's  dropping  in  for 
Sunday  dinner  every  week,  if  he  wanted  to. 
He  never  bothers.  He  never  is  in  the  way. 
He  is  as  deft  at  buttoning  a  glove  as  he  is 
amiable  at  playing  cards.  You  always  think 
of  Charlie  Hardy  first  if  you  are  making  up 
a  theatre  party.  He  serves  equally  well  as 
groomsman  or  pall-bearer  —  although  I  do 
not  speak  from  experience  in  either  instance. 
He  never  is  cross  or  sulky.  He  makes  the 
best  of  everything,  and  I  think  men  say  that 
he  is  "an  all-round  good  fellow." 

I  depend  a  great  deal  upon  other  men's 
opinion  of  a  man.  I  never  thoroughly  trust 
a  man  who  is  not  a  favorite  with  his  own 
sex.  I  wish  men  were  as  generous  to  us 
in  that  respect,  for  a  woman  whom  other 
women  do  not  like  is  just  as  dangerous. 
And  I  never  knew  simple  jealousy  —  the 


A   GAME   OF   HEARTS  95 

reason  men  urge  against  accepting  our  ver 
dict — to  be  universal  enough  to  condemn  a 
woman.  There  always  are  a  few  fair-mind 
ed  women  in  every  community — just  enough 
to  be  in  the  minority — to  break  continuous 
jealousy. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  man  I  am  talking 
about  has  kept  up  his  acquaintance  with 
Rachel  and  Alice  Asbury  and  me  in  a  des 
ultory  way,  and  occasionally  he  grows  con 
fidential.  The  last  time  I  saw  him  he  said  : 

"  Sometimes  I  wish  I  were  a  woman, 
Ruth,  when  I  get  into  so  much  trouble  with 
the  girls.  Women  never  seem  to  have  any 
worry  over  love  affairs.  All  they  have  to 
do  is  to  lean  back  and  let  men  wait  on  them 
until  they  see  one  that  suits  them.  It  is  like 
ordering  from  a  menu  card  for  them  to  select 
husbands.  You  run  over  a  list  for  a  girl — 
oysters,  clams,  or  terrapin — and  she  takes 
terrapin.  In  the  other  case  she  runs  over 
her  own  list — Smith,  Jones,  or  Robinson — 
and  likewise  takes  the  rarest.  But  she  is 
not  at  all  troubled  about  it.  Marrying  is 
so  easy  for  a  girl.  It  comes  natural  to 
her." 


96  THE    LOVE    AFFAIRS    OF    AN    OLD    MAID 

Tabby,  I  did  wish  that  he  knew  as  much 
of  the  internal  mechanism  of  the  engage 
ments  that  you  and  I  have  participated  in, 
by  proxy,  as  we  do  —  if  he  would  under 
stand,  profit  by,  and  speedily  forget  the 
knowledge. 

But,  like  the  hypocrite  I  am,  I  only  smiled 
indulgently  at  him,  as  if,  for  women,  marry 
ing  was  mere  reposing  on  eider-down  cush 
ions,  with  the  tiller  ropes  in  their  hands, 
while  men  did  the  rowing.  I  was  not  going 
to  admit,  Tabby,  that  the  most  of  the  girls 
we  know  never  worked  harder  in  their  lives 
than  during  that  indefinite  and  mysterious 
period  known  as  "  making  up  their  minds." 
You  see  I  uphold  my  own  sex  at  all  hazards 
— to  men. 

He  was  standing  up  to  go  when  he  said 
that,  but  there  was  something  about  him 
which  led  me  to  suspect  that  he  was  in  a 
condition  when  he  needed  some  woman  to 
straighten  out  his  affairs.  I  made  no  re 
ply,  which  threw  the  burden  of  continuing 
the  conversation  upon  him.  I  was  in  that 
passive  state  which  made  me  perfectly  will 
ing  to  have  him  say  good-night  nnd  go  home 


A   GAME   OF   HEARTS  97 

or  stay  and  confess  to  me,  just  as  he  chose. 
I  knew  he  needed  me ;  a  good  many  men 
need  their  mothers  once  in  a  while  as  much 
as  they  ever  did  when  boys.  There  was 
something  whimsically  boyish  about  Char 
lie  as  he  leaned  over  the  back  of  a  tall 
chair  and  debated  secretly  whether  or  not 
he  should  confide  in  me. 

"  Why  don't  you  ask  me  why  I  said  that  ?" 
he  said. 

"Because  I  know  without  asking.  You 
were  induced  to  say  it  by  what  you  have 
been  thinking  of  all  the  evening.  It  sound 
ed  like  a  beginning,  but  really  it  was  an 
ending." 

He  looked  as  though  he  thought  me  a 
mind-reader,  but  I  fancy  the  knack  of  di 
vining  when  people  need  a  confidant  is  pre- 
ternaturally  developed  in  old  maids. 

"  How  good  you  are,  Ruth." 

"  You  men  always  think  women  are  good 
when  they  understand  you.  But  it  isn't 
goodness." 

"  No,  you're  right.  It's  more  comfortable 
than  goodness.  It's  odd  how  you  do  it. 
May  I  tell  you  about  it  ?  You  won't  think 
7 


98  THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD  MAID 

half  as  well  of  me  as  you  do  now,  but  it 
needs  just  such  women  as  you  to  keep  men 
straight,  and  if  you  will  give  me  your  opinion 
I  vow  I'll  do  as  you  say,  even  if  it  kills  me." 

I  was  afraid  from  that  desperate  ending 
that  it  was  something  serious,  and  it  was. 
He  made  several  attempts  before  he  could 
begin.  Finally  he  burst  out  with, 

"  Although  you  are  the  easiest  person  in 
the  world  to  talk  to,  and  I've  known  you 
always,  it  is  pretty  hard  to  lay  this  case 
before  you  so  that  you  won't  think  me  a 
conceited  prig.  That  is  because  you  are  a 
woman  and  can't  help  looking  at  it  from  a 
woman's  standpoint.  For  a  good  many 
reasons  it  would  be  easier  to  tell  it  to  some 
man,  who  would  know  how  it  was  himself; 
but  you  see  I  want  a  woman's  conscience 
and  a  woman's  judgment,  because  you  can 
put  yourself  in  another  woman's  place." 

He  grew  quite  red  as  he  talked,  and  I 
waited  patiently  for  him  to  go  on,  but  gave 
him  no  help. 

"  Well,  here  goes.  If  you  hate  me  after 
wards  I  can't  help  it.  I  had  no  idea  it 
would  be  so  hard  to  tell  you  or  I  shouldn't 


A   GAME   OF   HEARTS  QQ 

have  attempted  it.  But  since  you  have  been 
sitting  there  looking  at  me  I  am  beginning 
to  think  differently  of  it  myself,  and  I'm  sure 
that,  with  all  your  kindness,  you  will  be  very 
hard  on  me,  and  tell  me  to  accept  the  hard 
est  alternative.  Now,  Ruth,  you'd  better 
shake  hands  with  me  and  say  good-by  while 
you  like  me,  because  you  will  think  of  me 
as  another  Charlie  Hardy  when  I've  fin 
ished." 

He  actually  held  out  his  hand,  but  I 
folded  mine  together. 

"  No,"  I  said,  smiling,  "  I  shall  not  bid 
you  good-by  until  I  really  am  through  with 
you.  Don't  look  so  discouraged.  Come ; 
possibly  I  may  be  a  better  friend  to  you 
than  you  think." 

"  You  are  awfully  good,"  he  said  again. 
I  don't  know  when  I  have  so  impressed  a 
man  with  my  extraordinary  goodness  as  I 
did  by  listening  to  Charlie  while  he  did  all 
the  talking.  If  I  could  have  held  my 
tongue  another  hour,  he  would  have  called 
me  an  angel. 

"  Well,  although  you  may  not  know  it,  I 
am  engaged  to  Louise  King.  I  always 


IOO        THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

have  been  very  fond  of  her,  and  when  I 
found  I  couldn't  get  Sallie,  I  was  sure  I 
cared -as  much  for  Louise  as  I  ever  could 
care  for  anybody,  and  I  was  perfectly  sat 
isfied  with  her — thought  she  would  make 
me  an  awfully  good  wife,  and  all  that.  But 
while  Miss  Taliaferro  was  up  here  visiting 
Sallie,  I  was  with  her  a  good  deal,  and  the 
first  thing  I  knew  we  were  dead  in  love  with 
each  other.  You  know  we  were  both  in  Sal- 
lie's  wedding-party,  and  I  tell  you,  Ruth,  to 
stand  up  at  the  altar  with  a  girl  he  is  already 
half  in  love  with,  plays  the  very  deuce  with 
a  man.  Kentucky  girls  are  all  pretty,  I  sup 
pose — everybody  says  so,  and  you  have  to 
make  believe  you  think  so  whether  you  do  or 
not ;  but  this  one — you  know  her  ?  Isn't  she 
the  prettiest  thing  you  ever  saw  ?  Well,  of 
course  she  didn't  know  I  was  engaged,  and 
I  kept  putting  off  telling  her,  until  the  first 
thing  I  knew  I  was  letting  her  see  how 
much  I  thought  of  her.  I  don't  suppose  it 
was  at  all  difficult  to  see,  but  girls  are  keen 
on  such  subjects,  and  a  man  can't  be  in 
love  with  one  more  than  a  week  before 
she  knows  more  about  it  than  he  does. 


A   GAME   OF   HEARTS  IOI 

Then,  after  she  told  me  that  she  loved  me, 
how  could  I  tell  her  that,  in  spite  of  what 
I  had  said,  I  was  engaged  to  another  girl  ? 
Wouldn't  she  have  thought  I  was  a  rascal? 
No ;  I  had  to  let  her  go  home  thinking 
that,  if  we  were  not  already  engaged,  we 
should  be  some  time,  and  I  went  part  way 
with  her,  and— it  was  a  mean  trick  to  play, 
but  the  nonsensical  things  that  unthinking 
people  do  precipitate  affairs  which  perhaps 
without  their  means  might  never  fully  de 
velop.  Brian  Beck  heard  that  I  was  going 
a  few  miles  with  her,  and  he  and  Sallie 
and  Payson  came  down  to  the  train  to  see 
us  off.  Just  as  we  pulled  out  of  the  sta 
tion,  Brian  made  the  most  frantic  signs  for 
me  to  open  the  window,  and  when  I  did 
so,  he  threw  a  tissue-paper  package  at  me. 
Frankie  and  I  both  made  an  effort  to  catch 
it.  Of  course  it  burst  when  we  touched  it, 
and  a  good  pound  of  rice  was  scattered 
all  over  us.  You  never  saw  such  a  sight. 
It  flew  in  every  direction  ;  her  hat  and  my 
hair  were  full  of  it.  Some  went  down  my 
collar.  Of  course  everybody  in  the  car 
roared  and— well,  I'm  not  done  blushing  at 


IO2        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

it  yet.  Frankie  took  it  much  better  than  I, 
and  only  laughed  at  it.  But  I — I  felt  more 
like  crying.  I  saw  instantly  how  it  compli 
cated  things.  It  was  a  nail  driven  into  my 
coffin. 

"  We  had  no  more  than  settled  down  from 
that  and  were  just  having  a  good  little  talk, 
after  the  passengers  had  stopped  looking 
at  us,  when  the  porter  appeared,  bringing  a 
basket  of  white  flowers  with  two  turtle-doves 
suspended  from  the  handle,  and  Brian  Beck's 
card  on  it.  I  wish  you  could  have  heard  the 
people  laugh.  I  declare  to  you,  Ruth,  when 
I  saw  that  great  white  thing  coming  and 
knew  what  it  meant,  it  looked  as  big  as  a 
billiard-table  to  me.  I  was  going  to  pay  the 
fellow  to  take  it  out  again,  but  no — Frankie 
wanted  it.  She  made  me  put  it  down  on 
the  opposite  seat  and  there  it  stood.  Those 
sickening  birds  were  too  much  for  me,  so  I 
jerked  them  off  and  threw  them  out  of  the 
window,  conscious  that  my  face  was  very 
red  and  that  I  was  amusing  more  people 
than  I  had  bargained  for. 

"  When  the  time  came  for  me  to  get  off  and 
take  the  train  back,  Frankie  implored  me  to 


A   GAME  OF   HEARTS  IO3 

go  on  with  her,  urging  how  strange  it  would 
look  to  people,  who  all  thought  we  were  mar 
ried,  to  see  me  disappear  and  have  her  go  on 
alone.  I  railed  at  the  idea,  but  she  was  in 
earnest,  and  when  I  told  her  positively  that 
I  couldn't — thinking  more,  I  must  admit,  of 
the  state  of  my  affairs  than  of  hers — she  be 
gan  to  cry  under  her  veil.  That  settled  it. 
Of  course  I  couldn't  stand  it  to  see  the  girl 
I  loved  cry,  so  I  went  home  with  her,  fell 
deeper  in  love  every  minute  I  was  there,  and 
came  away  feeling  like  a  cur  because  I  had 
not  spoken  to  her  father.  Her  people  met 
me  in  the  cordial,  honest  manner  of  those 
who  have  faith  in  mankind,  but  I  couldn't 
look  them  in  the  face  without  flinching. 

"  Since  I  came  back,  of  course,  I've  been 
visiting  Louise  as  usual.  I  told  her  all 
about  the  rice  and  flowers,  thinking  that 
if  she  quarrelled  with  me  about  the  af 
fair  she  would  break  off  the  engagement. 
But  she  only  laughed  and  said  it  served  me 
right  for  flirting  with  every  girl  that  came 
along,  and  didn't  even  reproach  me.  She 
has  absolute  faith  in  me.  She  doesn't  be 
lieve  I  could  sink  so  low  as  I  have,  any 


104        THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

more  than  she  could.  She  has  idealized  me 
until  I  don't  dare  to  breathe  for  fear  of  de 
stroying  the  illusion.  She  thinks  that  I  love 
her  in  the  way  she  loves  me,  but  I  couldn't. 
It  isn't  in  me,  Ruth.  I  don't  even  love 
Frankie  that  way.  To  tell  the  truth,  Louise 
is  too  good  for  me.  She  is  magnificent,  but 
I  am  rather  afraid  of  her.  She  has  so  many 
ideals  and  is  so  intense.  Her  faith  in  me 
makes  me  shiver.  I  am  not  a  bit  comfort 
able  with  her.  I  do  not  even  understand 
how  she  can  love  me  so  much.  I  am  noth 
ing  extraordinary,  but  if  you  knew  the  way 
she  treats  me,  you  would  think  I  was  Achilles 
or  some  of  those  Greek  fellows.  She  has  re 
fused  better  and  richer  men  than  I.  Nor- 
ris  Whitehouse  has  loved  her  all  her  life, 
and  you  know  what  a  splendid  man  he  is, 
but  Louise  ridicules  the  idea  of  ever  car 
ing  for  anybody  but  me.  She  is  so  per 
fect  that  there  is  absolutely  no  flaw  in  her 
for  me  to  recognize  and  feel  friendly  with. 
She  reads  me  like  a  book,  but  I  am  less 
acquainted  with  her  than  I  was  before  we 
were  engaged.  She  says  such  beautiful 
things  to  me  sometimes,  things  that  are 


A    GAME    OP    HEARTS  10$ 

far  beyond  my  comprehension,  and  she  can 
get  so  uplifted  that  I  feel  as  if  I  never 
had  met  her.  There's  no  use  in  talking; 
after  a  girl  falls  in  love  with  a  man  she 
often  ceases  to  be  the  girl  he  courted." 

I  recalled  what  I  had  said  to  Percival — 
"  Often  a  woman  denies  herself  the  expres 
sion  of  the  best  part  of  her  love,  for  fear 
that  it  will  be  either  a  puzzle  or  a  terror  to 
her  lover."  Such  a  saying  belonged  to  Per 
cival.  I  shouldn't  think  of  repeating  it  to 
Charlie,  for  he  could  not  comprehend  it.  I 
should  puzzle  him  as  much  as  Louise  did.  It 
made  me  heartsick.  How  could  even  Char 
lie  Hardy  so  persistently  misunderstand  the 
grandeur  of  Louise  King?  Yet  how  could 
such  a  glorious  girl  imagine  herself  in  love 
with  nice,  weak,  agreeable  Charlie  Hardy  ? 

Louise  is  a  younger,  handsomer,  more 
impetuous,  less  clever  edition  of  Rachel  Per 
cival  ;  but  she  is  of  that  order.  She  is  less 
concentrated  and  more  emotional  than  Ra 
chel.  I  did  not  quite  know  how  a  great 
sorrow  would  affect  Louise.  Rachel  would 
use  it  as  a  stepping-stone  towards  heaven. 

I  have  seen  a  young,  untried  race-horse 


106        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

with  small,  pointed,  restless  ears  ;  with  deli 
cate  nostrils  where  the  red  blood  showed ; 
with  full,  soft  eyes  where  fire  flashed  ;  with 
a  satin  skin  so  thin  and  glossy  that  even 
the  lightest  hand  would  cause  it  to  quiver 
to  the  touch ;  where  pride  and  fire  and  royal 
blood  seemed  to  urge  a  trial  of  their  powers ; 
and  I  have  thought :  "  You  are  capable  of 
passing  anything  on  the  track  and  coming 
under  the  wire  triumphant  and  victorious ; 
or  you  might  fulfil  your  prophecy  equally 
well  by  falling  dead  in  your  first  heat,  with 
the  red  blood  gushing  from  those  thin  nos 
trils.  We  can  be  sure  of  nothing  until  you 
are  tried,  but  it  is  a  quivering  delight  to 
look  at  you  and  to  share  your  impatience 
and  to  wonder  what  you  will  do." 

Occasionally  I  see  women  who  affect  me 
in  the  same  way — idealists,  capable  of  be 
ing  wounded  through  their  sensitiveness  by 
things  which  we  ordinary  mortals  accept 
philosophically ;  capable  also  of  greater 
heights  of  happiness  and  lower  depths  of 
misery,  but  of  suffering  most  through  being 
misunderstood.  To  this  class  Rachel  and 
Louise  belong.  Rachel,  in  Percival,  has 


A   GAME   OF   HEARTS  IO7 

reached  a  haven  where  she  rides  at  anchor, 
sheltered  from  such  storms  as  had  hitherto 
almost  engulfed  her,  and  growing  more  he 
roically  beautiful  in  character  day  by  day. 
Poor  Louise  is  still  at  sea,  with  a  great 
storm  brewing.  How  hard,  how  terribly 
hard,  to  talk  to  Charlie  Hardy  about  her, 
when,  after  the  solemnity  of  an  engagement 
tie  between  them,  he  was  capable  of  mis 
understanding,  not  only  her,  but  the  whole 
situation  so  blindly !  But  what  a  calamity 
it  would  be  if  Louise  should  marry  him ! 

"Go  on,  Ruth.  Say  something,  do.  I 
imagine  all  sorts  of  things  while  you  just 
sit  there  looking  at  me  so  solemnly.  I  real 
ize  that  I  am  in  a  tight  place.  I  did  hope 
that  you  could  see  some  way  out  of  it  for 
me ;  but  I  know,  by  the  way  you  act,  that 
you  think  I  ought  to  give  up  Frankie — dear 
little  girl ! — and  marry  Louise,  and  by  Jove  ! 
if  you  say  it's  the  handsome  thing  to  do,  I'll 
doit." 

This  still  more  effectually  closed  my  lips. 
He  so  evidently  thought  that  he  was  being 
heroic.  He  added  rather  reluctantly,  "  I 
must  sny  that  I  suppose  Frankie  Taliaferro 


IOS        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN  OLD   MAID 

would  get  over  it  much  more  easily  than 
Louise  could." 

"  Charlie,"  I  said  slowly,  "  you  don't  mean 
to  be,  but  you  are  too  conceited  to  live.  I 
wonder  that  you  haven't  died  of  conceit  be 
fore  this." 

Charlie's  blond  face  flushed  and  he  looked 
deeply  offended. 

"  Conceited  !"  he  burst  out.  "  Why,  Ruth, 
there  isn't  a  fellow  going  who  has  a  worse 
opinion  of  himself  than  I  have.  I  don't  see 
what  either  of  those  girls  sees  in  me  to  love, 
I  tell  you.  I  am  not  proud  of  it.  I  wish 
to  Heaven  they  didn't  love  me.  /  haven't 
made  them." 

" '  Haven't  made  them ' !  Yes,  you  have. 
You  are  just  the  kind  of  man  who  does. 
You  say  pretty  things  even  to  old  women, 
and  bring  them  shawls  and  put  footstools 
under  their  feet  with  the  air  of  a  lover.  And 
if  you  only  hand  a  woman  an  ice  you  look 
unutterable  things.  You  have  a  dozen  girls 
at  a  time  in  that  indefinite  state  when  three 
words  to  any  one  of  them  would  engage 
you  to  her,  and  she  would  think  you  had 
deliberately  led  up  to  it ;  whereas  all  the 


A   GAME   OF  HEARTS  ICXJ 

past  had  been  idle  admiration  on  your  part, 
and  it  was  a  rose  in  her  hair  or  a  moment 
in  the  conservatory  that  upset  you,  and 
there  you  are.  Oh,  these  girls,  these  girls, 
who  believe  every  time  a  man  at  a  ball  says 
he  loves  them  that  he  means  it !  Why  can't 
you  be  satisfied  to  have  some  of  them 
friends,  and  not  all  sweethearts  ?" 

"  It  can't  be  done.  I've  tried  and  I  know. 
Sallie  tried  it  and  it  married  her  off — a  thing 
not  one  of -her  flirtations  could  have  accom 
plished.  This  is  the  way  it  goes.  You  ar 
range  with  a  girl  not  to  have  any  nonsense, 
but  just  to  be  good  friends.  You  take  her 
to  the  theatre,  drive  with  her,  dance  with 
her.  Soon  her  chaperon  begins  to  eye  you 
over.  Fellows  at  the  club  drop  a  remark 
now  and  then.  You  explain  that  you  are 
only  friends,  and  they  wink  at  you  and  you 
feel  foolish.  Next  time  they  see  you  with 
her,  they  look  knowing,  and  you  see,  to  your 
horror,  that  the  girl  is  blushing.  Evidently 
she  is  under  fire  too.  Still,  you  keep  it  up. 
She  makes  a  better  comrade  than  any  of  the 
men.  You  feel  that  you  are  out  of  mischief 
when  you  are  with  her.  She  keeps  you  alert. 


IIO        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

You  never  are  bored,  but  really  you  are  not 
as  fond  of  her  as  you  were  of  your  college 
chum  even.  She  treats  you  a  trifle,  just 
a  trifle,  differently  from  all  the  other  men. 
This  goes  to  your  head.  You  begin  to  make 
a  little  difference  yourself.  You  take  her 
hand  when  you  say  good-night,  just  as  you 
would  one  of  the  men.  But  it  is  not  the 
same.  The  girl  has  needles  or  electricity 
in  her  hand.  You  can't  let  go.  You  begin 
to  feel  that  friendship,  too,  can  -be  danger 
ous.  Next  day  you  send  her  flowers,  with 
some  lines  about  the  delights  of  friendship. 
She  accepts  both  beautifully,  but  you  have 
a  guilty  feeling  that  you  did  it  to  remind 
her.  She  does  not  seem  to  understand  that 
there  had  been  any  necessity.  Still,  you  feel 
rather  mean,  and  to  make  up  for  it  you  try 
to  atone  by  your  manner.  She  is  looking 
perfectly  lovely.  She  wears  white.  You 
particularly  like  white.  She  knows  it.  You 
think  perhaps  she  wore  it  to  please  you. 
How  pretty  she  is !  You  lose  your  head 
a  little  and  say  something.  She  looks  inno 
cent  and  surprised.  She  '  thought  we  were 
just  friends.  Surely,'  she  says,  'you  have 


A   GAME   OF   HEARTS  III 

said  so  often  enough.  Why  change?  Friends 
are  so  much  more  comfortable.'  She  wants 
to  '  stay  a  friend.'  You  are  miserable  at  the 
idea,  although  that  morning  it  was  just  what 
you  wanted.  You  were  even  afraid  she 
would  think  differently.  What  an  ass  a 
man  can  be !  You  fling  discretion  to  the 
winds  and  tell  her — you  tell  her — well,  you 
go  home  engaged  to  her.  That's  how  a 
friendship  ends.  Bah !" 

"A  realistic  recital.  From  hearsay,  of 
course !  The  next  day  the  man  wishes  he 
were  well  out  of  it,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Not  quite  so  soon  as  that,  but  soon 
enough." 

"Ah,  I  wish  you  knew,  Charlie  Hardy, 
how  all  this  sounds  even  to  such  a  good 
friend  of  yours  as  I  am.  It  is  such  men  as 
you  who  lower  the  standard  of  love  and  of 
men  in  general.  Do  you  suppose  a  girl  who 
has  had  an  encounter  with  you,  and  seen 
how  trifling  you  are,  can  have  her  first  beau 
tiful  faith  to  give  to  the  truly  grand  hero 
when  he  comes  ?  No  ;  it  has  been  bruised 
and  beaten  down  by  what  you  call  'a  lit 
tle  flirtation,'  and  possibly  her  unwillingness 


112        THE  LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

to  trust  a  second  time  may  force  her  true 
lover  into  withdrawing  his  suit.  How  dare 
men  and  women  trifle  with  the  Shekinah 
of  their  lives  ?  And  when  it  has  been 
dulled  by  abuse,  what  a  pitiful  Shekinah  it 
appears  to  the  one  who  approaches  it  rev 
erently,  confidently  expecting  it  to  be  the 
uncontaminated  holy  of  holies !  It  is  this 
sort  of  thing  which  makes  infidels  about 
love." 

Charlie  began  to  look  sulky,  feeling,  I  sup 
pose,  that  I  was  piling  the  sins  of  the  uni 
verse  on  to  his  already  burdened  shoulders. 

"  I  dare  say  you  are  right,  but  what  am  I 
to  do  ?" 

"  There  is  only  one  thing  for  you  to  do, 
but  I  know  you  won't  do  it." 

"  Yes,  I  will.  Only  try  me,"  he  said, 
brightening  up. 

"You  must  go  and  tell  Louise  that  you 
are  in  love  with  Frankie  Taliaferro." 

"  Tell  Louise  ?  Why,  Ruth,  it  would  kill 
her.  You  don't  know  her.  She  wouldn't 
let  me  off.  You  don't  know  how  a  girl  in 
love  feels.  Ruth,  were  you  ever  in  love  ?" 

"  That  is  not  a  pertinent  question,"  I  said. 


A   GAME   OF   HEARTS  113 

'•  It  comes  quite  near  being  the  other  thing. 
But  let  me  tell  you,  Charlie  Hardy,  I  know 
Louise  King,  and  it  won't  kill  her.  You  know 
'  men  have  died  and  worms  have  eaten  them, 
but  not  for  love.'  That  might  be  said  of 
women."  (I  didn't  know,  Tabby,  whether  it 
might  or  might  not.  I  couldn't  afford  to  let 
him  see  my  doubts,  if  I  had  any.)  "We 
don't  die  as  easily  as  you  men  seem  to 
think." 

"  But  is  this  your  view  of  what  is  right  ?" 
he  asked.  "  I  was  sure  you  would  counsel 
the  other.  I've  been  fortifying  myself  to 
give  Frankie  up  and  marry  Louise,  and, 
with  all  due  respect  to  you,  I  must  say  that 
I  think  you  are  wrong  here.  You  must  re 
member  that  my  honor  is  involved." 

"  Bother  your  honor  !"  I  cried  explosively. 
Charlie  seemed  rather  pleased  than  other 
wise  at  my  inelegance.  "  I  am  tired  to  death 
of  hearing  men  fall  back  on  nonsense  about 
their  honor.  I  notice  they  seldom  feel  called 
upon  to  refer  to  it  unless  they  are  involved 
in  something  disreputable." 

Charlie  straightened  up  at  this  and  set 
tled  his  coat  with  an  indignant  jerk. 


114         THE    LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

• 

"  I  hardly  think,"  he  began  stiffly,  "  that 
I  am  involved  in  anything  disreputable  in 
being  engaged  to  Miss  King." 

"  What  are  a  man's  debts  of  honor  ?"  I 
went  on  with  growing  excitement.  "  Gam 
ing  debts  and  things  he  would  scarcely  care 
to  explain  to  the  public  at  large.  Your 
honor  is  involved  in  this,  is  it  ?  And  you 
must  save  your  honor  at  all  hazards,  no 
matter  who  goes  to  the  wall  in  the  process ! 
I  suppose  if  you  made  the  rash  vow  that,  if 
your  horse  won  the  race,  you  would  cut  your 
mother's  head  off,  while  you  were  still  in  the 
flush  of  victory,  you  would  seize  your  bowie- 
knife  and  go  to  work !  No  ?  Oh,  yes,  Char 
lie.  Your  honor,  as  you  call  it,  is  involved. 
I  insist  upon  it.  You  must  do  it.  Oh,  I 
am  going  too  far,  am  I  ?  Not  one  step  fur 
ther  than  men  go  in  the  mire  whither  their 
honor  leads  them.  Debts  of  honor,  indeed  ! 
Debts  of  dishonor  I  call  them.  So  do  most 
women." 

"  Yes,  but,  Ruth,"  interrupted  Charlie  un 
easily,  "an  engagement  is  different.  I  don't 
dispute  what  you  say  in  regard  to  gambling 
debts—" 


A   GAME  OF  HEARTS  115 

"  You  can't,"  I  murmured  rebelliously. 

"  — but  a  man  can't,  with  any  decency,  ask 
a  girl  to  release  him  when  he  has  sought 
her  out  and  asked  her  to  marry  him." 

"  Perhaps  not  with  decency.  But  it  is  a 
place  where  this  precious  honor  of  yours 
might  come  into  play.  It  would  at  least  be 
honorable." 

"  There  isn't  a  man  who  would  agree 
with  you,"  he  cried. 

"Nor  is  there  a  woman  who  would 
agree  with  you,"  I  retorted.  But  both  of 
us  stretched  things  a  little  at  this  point. 

He  thought  over  the  situation  for  a  few 
minutes,  then  said, 

"You  understand  that,  in  my  opinion, 
Louise  loves  me  the  best." 

"The  best — yes.  For  that  very  reason 
you  must  not  marry  her.  O  Charlie !  try 
to  understand,"  I  pleaded.  "  She  must 
love  the  best  when  she  loves  at  all.  She 
has  loved  the  best  in  you,  until  she  has  put 
it  out  of  your  reach  ever  to  attain  to  it.  It 
would  not  be  fair  to  the  girl,  it  would  be 
robbing  her,  to  accept  all  this  beautiful  love 
for  you,  and  give  her  in  return — your  love 


Il6        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

for  another  girl.  Do  you  suppose  for  an 
instant  that  you  could  continue  to  deceive 
her  after  you  were  married  ?  Supposing 
she  found  out  afterwards,  then  what  ?  She 
might  die  of  that.  I  cannot  say.  It  would 
be  enough  to  kill  her.  But  not  if  you  are 
honest  and  manly  enough  to  tell  her  in  time 
to  save  her  self-respect.  You  are  powerless 
to  touch  it  now.  You  could  kill  it  if  you 
were  married." 

"Honest  and  manly  enough  to  confess 
myself  a  rascal  ?  I  don't  see  where  it  would 
come  in,"  he  replied  gloomily. 

"  It  is  the  nearest  approach  to  it  which 
lies  in  your  power." 

"  If  the  girls'  places  were  only  reversed 
now !  I  could  tell  Frankie  that  I  had  been 
false  to  our  engagement  and  had  fallen  in 
love  with  Louise.  She  would  know  how  it 
was  herself.  But  Louise  couldn't  compre 
hend  such  things.  I  believe  she  has  been 
as  true  to  me,  even  in  thought,  as  if  she  had 
been  my  wife.  How  can  I  tell  her?" 

"  The  more  you  say,  the  plainer  you  make 
it  your  duty.  I  say,  how  can  you  not  tell  her  ?" 

"  I  might  go  away  for  a  year  and  not  let 


A   GAME   OF   HEARTS  117 

her  know  and  not  write  to  her.  Then  she 
would  know  without  my  having  to  tell  her." 

"You  wouldn't  stand  it  if  a  man  called 
you  a  coward.  Don't  try  my  woman's  friend 
ship  for  you  too  far.  You  insult  me  by  of 
fering  such  a  suggestion." 

"Gently,  gently,  Ruth.  I  beg  your  par 
don."  (Rachel  was  right  in  saying  he  would 
not  quarrel.  I  wished  he  would.  I  never 
wanted  to  quarrel  so  much  in  my  life.) 

"  I  am  a  coward,"  he  broke  down  at  last. 
"  I'll  spare  you  the  trouble  of  saying  so. 
But  oh,  Ruth,  you  don't  know  how  I  dread 
a  scene  !  You  go  and  tell  her.  I  can't.  I 
couldn't  even  write  it." 

"  How  unselfish  you  are  !  Spare  yourself 
at  all  hazards,  Charlie,  for  of  course  it  was 
not  your  fault  that  things  got  into  such  a 
state." 

"  Oh,  Ruth,  don't !" 

"  Well,  I  won't.  But  do  you  realize  how 
I  should  insult  her  if  I  went  to  her  ?  It's 
bad  enough  for  you,  the  man  she  loves,  to 
tell  her.  From  any  one  else  it  would  be  un 
forgivable.  Do  as  you  like.  You  prom 
ised  to  follow  my  advice.  Take  it  and  do 


Il8        THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

as  you  will  with  it.  But  I  will  guarantee 
the  result  if  you  will  do  as  I  say.  Come, 
Charlie.  One  hour,  and  it  will  all  be  over, 
and  you  can  marry  Frankie." 

It  was  like  getting  him  into  a  dentist's 
chair.  I  felt  a  wholesome  self-contempt  as 
I  thus  sugar-coated  his  pill,  but  he  was  so 
abject  in  his  misery. 

Charlie  brightened  up  perceptibly  at  the 
alluring  prospect.  He  shut  his  eyes  to  the 
dark  path  which  led  to  happiness,  and  was 
revelling  in  its  glory. 

"  Ruth,  you  dear  thing !  I  don't  see  how 
I  ever  can  thank  you  enough,"  he  said,  tak 
ing  both  my  hands  in  his.  "  I  ought  to  have 
stuck  to  you,  that's  what  I  ought  to  have 
done.  You  would  have  kept  me  straight.  Do 
you  know,  I  used  to  be  awfully  in  love  with 
you.  You  really  were  my  first  love.  I  was 
about  eighteen  then.  You  don't  look  a  day 
older,  and  you  are  just  as  sweet  as  ever." 

I  laughed  outright. 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  ?"  I  cried.  "  You 
can't  help  making  love  to  save  your  life. 
Your  gratitude  is  getting  you  into  deeper 
water  every  minute.  Go  home,  do.  Run 


A   GAME  OF   HEARTS  Ilg 

for  your  life,  or  you'll  be  engaged  to  me  too. 
Then  who'll  help  you  out  ?" 

He  acted  upon  my  suggestion  and  went 
hastily. 

Tabby,  did  you  ever  ?  He  never  was  in 
love  with  me,  never  on  this  earth.  What 
ever  possessed  him  to  say  such  a  thing? 
He  loses  his  head,  that's  what  he  does.  I 
hope  he  won't  meet  any  woman  younger 
than  his  grandmother  before  he  gets  home, 
or  he  might  propose  to  her. 

***** 

My  heart  stands  still  when  I  think  of 
Louise  King. 


IX 

TH.E  MADONNA   OF   THE   QUIET   MIND 

"It  is  not  true  that  love  makes  all  things  easy,  but 
it  makes  us  choose  what  is  difficult." 

ACROSS  the  street,  in  plain  view  from  my 
window,  has  come  to  dwell  a  little  brown 
wren  of  a  woman  with  her  five  babies.  The 
house,  hitherto  inconspicuous  among  its 
finer  neighbors,  at  the  advent  of  the  Mayo 
family  suddenly  bloomed  into  a  home.  The 
lawn  blossomed  with  living  flowers  and  the 
windows  framed  faces  which  shamed,  in 
their  dimpling  loveliness,  the  painted  cher 
ubs  on  the  wall. 

It  was  a  delight  to  see  Nellie  Mayo  in  the 
midst  of  her  children.  Hers  were  all  babies, 
such  dear,  amiable,  kissable  babies,  each  of 
whom  seemed  personally  anxious  to  prove 
to  every  one  how  much  sweetness  one  small 
morsel  of  humanity  could  hold.  But  with 


THE   MADONNA   OF   THE   QUIET   MIND  121 

five  of  them,  bless  me !  the  house  was  one 
glowing  radiance  of  sunshine,  in  which  the 
little  mother  lived  and  loved,  until  they  ab 
sorbed  each  other's  personality,  and  it  was 
difficult  to  think  of  one  without  the  others. 

Sometimes  in  a  street-car  or  on  the  ele 
vated  train  I  have  seen  women  who  I  felt 
convinced  had  little  babies  at  home.  It  is 
because  of  the  peculiar  look  they  wear,  the 
rapturous  mother-look,  which  has  its  home  in 
the  eyes  during  the  most  helpless  period  of 
babyhood — an  indescribable  look,  in  which 
dreams  and  prophecy  and  heaven  are  min 
gled.  It  is  the  sweetest  look  which  can  come 
to  a  woman's  face,  saying  plainly,  "  Oh,  I 
have  such  a  secret  in  my  heart !  Would  that 
every  one  knew  its  rapture  with  me !"  It 
wears  off  sooner  or  later,  but  with  Nellie 
Mayo,  whether  because  there  always  was  a 
baby,  or  because  each  was  welcomed  with 
such  a  world  of  love,  the  look  remained  until 
it  seemed  a  part  of  her  face. 

Long  ago  we  knew  her  as  an  unworldly 
girl,  whose  peachblow  coloring  gave  to  her 
face  its  chief  beauty,  although  her  plaintive 
blue  eyes  and  smooth  brown  hair  called  forth 


122        THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

a  certain  protective  faith  in  her  simplicity  and 
goodness.  Sometimes  girlhood  is  a  myste 
rious  chaos  of  traits,  out  of  which  no  one  can 
foretell  what  sort  of  cosmos  will  follow,  or 
whether  there  will  be  a  cosmos  at  all  or 
only  intelligent  chaos  to  the  end.  But  this 
girl  seemed  to  carry  her  future  in  her  face. 
She  was  a  little  mother  to  us  all.  It  was 
a  tribute  to  her  gentleness  and  dignity 
that,  although  she  was  a  poor  girl  among  a 
bevy  of  rich  ones,  she  was  a  favorite ;  un 
acknowledged  perhaps,  but  still  a  favorite. 
She  always  stood  ready  with  her  unosten 
tatious  help.  She  was  everybody's  under 
study.  Flossy  Carleton,  as  she  was  then, 
fastened  herself  like  a  leech  upon  Nellie's 
capacity  for  aid,  and  was  a  likely  subject 
for  the  exercise  of  Nellie's  swifter  brain 
and  willing  feet ;  for  to  see  any  one's  un 
spoken  need  was  to  her  like  a  thrilling  cry 
for  help,  and  was  the  only  thing  which 
could  completely  draw  her  from  her  shy 
reserve.  The  chief  reason  she  was  popular 
was  that  she  had  a  faculty  of  keeping  her 
self  in  the  shadow.  You  never  knew  where 
she  was  until  you  wanted  her,  when  she 


THE  MADONNA   OF  THE   QUIET   MIND  123 

would  seem  to  rise  out  of  the  earth  to  your 
side.  But,  in  spite  of  your  intense  gratitude 
at  the  moment,  you  really  found  yourself 
taking  her  as  a  matter  of  course.  She  was 
one  of  those  who  are  fully  appreciated  only 
when  they  are  dead,  and  who  then  call  forth 
the  bitterest  remorse  that  we  have  not  made 
them  know  in  life  how  dear  they  were  and 
how  painfully  necessary  to  our  happiness. 

It  is  rather  a  sad  commentary  upon  those 
same  girls,  who  accepted  Nellie's  assistance 
most  readily,  to  record  that,  when  they  were 
launched  into  society  and  were  deep  in  the 
mysteries  of  full-fledged  young -ladyhood, 
little  Nellie  Maddox  was  seldom  invited  to 
their  most  fashionable  gatherings,  but  came 
in,  at  first,  before  their  memory  grew  too 
rusty,  for  the  simpler  luncheons  and  teas. 

This  is  not  a  history  of  intentional  or  sys 
tematic  neglect,  but  a  mere  statement  of 
the  way  things  drifted  along.  Not  one  of 
the  girls  would  wilfully  have  omitted  her,  if 
she  had  been  in  the  habit  of  being  asked ; 
but  it  was  easy  to  let  her  name  slip  when  all 
the  rest  did  it,  and  so  gradually  it  came  to 
pass  that  we  seldom  saw  her.  Then  she 


124       THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

married  Frank  Mayo,  who  would  not  be  of 
fended  if  he  heard  a  newsboy  refer  to  him 
as  "a  gent,''  or  a  maid -servant  describe 
him  as  "  a  pretty  man."  Of  such  a  one  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  he  was  self 
ish,  inordinately  conceited,  and,  to  complete 
the  description,  a  trifle  vulgar.  He  never 
suspected  his  wife's  cleverness  nor  appre 
ciated  her  worship.  It  almost  made  me 
doubt  her  cleverness  to  see  how  she  idol 
ized  him,  but  this  instance  went  far  towards 
proving  that  love,  with  some  women,  is  en 
tirely  an  affair  of  the  heart.  It  irritates 
Rachel  to  hear  any  one  say  so.  She  says 
it  argues  ignorance  of  a  nice  distinction 
in  terms,  and  that  when  the  brain  is  not 
concerned  it  should  be  called  by  a  baser 
name. 

I  doubt  if  she  could  have  brought  her 
self  to  say  so  if  she  had  been  looking  into 
Nellie  Mayo's  blue  eyes,  which  looked  tired 
and  a  little  less  blue  than  as  I  remembered 
them.  They  had  pathetic  purple  shadows 
under  them,  which  told  of  sleepless  nights 
with  the  babies,  and  there  were  fine  lines 
around  her  mouth ;  but  her  light-brown  hair 


THE  MADONNA   OF   THE   QUIET   MIND  125 

was  as  smooth  and  her  dress  as  plain  and 
neat  as  ever. 

It  was  like  watching  a  nest  of  birds.  I 
felt  my  own  love  expand  to  see  the  wealth 
of  affection  Nellie  had  for  her  precious  fam 
ily.  Her  unselfish  zeal  never  flagged.  She 
flitted  from  one  want  to  another  as  naturally 
as  she  breathed  and  with  as  little  conscious 
ness  of  the  process.  Her  household  ma 
chinery  ran  no  more  smoothly  than  many 
another's,  but  Nellie  met  and  surmounted 
all  obstacles  with  an  unruffled  brow.  Her 
outward  calm  was  the  result  of  some  great 
inward  peace.  She  simply  had  developed 
naturally  from  the  girl  we  had  known  before 
we  grew  up  and  went  away  to  be  "  finished 
by  travel." 

Nothing  could  go  so  wrongly,  no  nerves 
throb  so  pitilessly,  that  they  prevented 
her  meeting  her  husband  with  the  smile  re 
served  for  him  alone.  None  of  the  babies 
could  call  it  forth.  When  he  came  home 
tired,  Nellie  fluttered  around  him  making 
him  comfortable,  as  if  life  held  for  her  no 
sweeter  task. 

Being  a  woman  myself,  and  having  no 


126        THE  LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

husband  to  wait  upon  until  it  became  natu 
ral,  I  used  to  feel  somewhat  vexed  that  he 
never  served  her,  instead  of  receiving  the 
best  of  everything  so  complacently.  He 
never  seemed  to  realize  that  she  might  be 
tired  or  needed  a  change  of  routine.  That 
household  revolved  around  him.  Of  course 
it  was  partly  Nellie's  fault  that  he  had 
fallen  into  the  habit  of  receiving  everything 
and  making  no  return.  Fallen  into  it  ?  No. 
With  that  kind  of  a  man,  an  only  son,  and 
considered  by  the  undiscriminating  to  be 
good-looking,  his  wife  had  only  to  take  up 
his  mother's  unfinished  work  of  spoiling 
him.  It  is  true  that  these  unselfish  wom 
en  inculcate  a  system  of  selfishness  in  their 
families  which  often  works  their  ruin.  They 
rob  the  children  of  their  rightful  virtue  of 
self-sacrifice. 

So  Nellie  idolized  her  husband.  He  was 
her  king,  and  the  king  could  do  no  wrong. 
She  taught  the  babies  a  sweet  system  of 
idolatry,  which  so  far  had  been  harmless. 
He  cared  very  little  for  children ;  so,  when 
yearning  to  express  their  love  for  the  hero 
of  all  their  mother's  stories,  with  their  little 


THE   MADONNA   OF  THE   QUIET   MIND  127 

hearts  almost  bursting  with  affection,  their 
love  was  most  frequently  tested  by  being 
obliged  to  keep  away  from  their  idol  in 
order  "not  to  bother  him  "  with  their  kisses. 
Fortunately  these  same  withheld  kisses  were 
dear  to  Nellie,  and  she  never  was  too  busy 
to  accept  and  return  them.  Thus  they  never 
knew  how  busy  she  was.  She  was  sure  to 
be  about  some  sweet  task  for  others.  If 
she  ever  rested,  it  was  with  the  cosiest  cor 
ner  occupied  by  somebody  else. 

I  wonder  what  will  happen  when,  in 
heaven,  one  of  these  selfless  mothers  is  led 
in  triumph  to  a  solid  gold  throne,  all  lined 
with  eider-down  cushions,  where  she  can 
take  the  rest  she  never  had  on  earth.  Won't 
she  stagger  back  against  the  glittering  walls 
of  the  New  Jerusalem  and  say,  "  Not  for  me. 
Not  for  me.  Surely  it  must  be  for  my  hus 
band  "  ?  But  there,  where  places  are  ap 
pointed,  she  will  not  be  allowed  to  give  it 
up — which  may  make  her  miserable  even  in 
heaven.  Ah  me,  these  mothers  !  It  brings 
tears  to  my  eyes  to  think  of  their  unending 
love,  which  wraps  around  and  shelters  and 
broods  over  every  one,  whose  helplessness 


128        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

clings  to  their  help,  whose  need  depends 
upon  their  exhaustless  supply.  Theirs  it 
is  to  bear  the  invisible  but  princely  crest, 
"  Ich  dien." 

Nellie  had  no  time  for  literary  classes. 
Her  music,  of  which  we  used  to  predict 
great  things,  had  resolved  itself  into  lullabies 
and  kindergarten  ditties  for  the  children. 
She  seldom  found  an  opportunity  to  visit 
even  me.  So  it  was  I  who  went  there  and 
saw  how  her  life  was  literally  bound  by  the 
four  walls  of  that  little  brown  house ;  yet  I 
never  felt  any  inclination  to  pity  her,  be 
cause  she  was  so  contented.  I  knew  of 
others  who  seemed  happier — that  is,  the 
word  seemed  to  describe  them  better — but 
none  of  them  possessed  Nellie  Mayo's 
placid  content. 

Still,  I  did  not  like  her  husband.  He  was 
not  of  Nellie's  fine  fibre.  He  was  dull,  while 
she  was  delightfully  clever.  His  eyes  were 
rather  good,  but  he  had  a  way  of  throwing 
expressive  glances  at  me,  as  he  talked  upon 
trifling  subjects,  which  disgusted  me.  I  re 
luctantly  made  up  my  mind  that  he  consid 
ered  himself  a  "  lady-killer,"  but  I  felt  out- 


THE   MADONNA   OF   THE   QUIET   MIND  I2Q 

raged  that  he  should  waste  his  ammunition 
upon  me.  I  tried  to  be  amused  by  it,  when 
I  found  indignation  was  useless  with  him.  I 
used  to  call  him  "  Simon  Tappertit "  to  my 
self,  until  I  once  forgot  and  referred  to  him 
as  "  Simon  "  before  Nellie,  when  I  gave  up 
being  amused  and  let  it  bore  me  naturally.  I 
always  had  treated  him  with  unusual  consid 
eration  for  Nellie's  sake,  and  even  had  tried 
genuinely  to  admire  him  because  it  gave  her 
such  pleasure ;  but  when  I  discovered  that 
the  jackanapes  took  it  as  an  evidence  that 
he  was  progressing  in  my  esteem,  I  did  not 
know  whether  to  laugh  or  cry  with  vexation. 
All  at  once,  without  any  explanation  or 
preface,  Sallie  began  calling  upon  Mrs. 
Mayo  and  sending  her  flowers  from  her 
conservatories.  Often  when  Sallie  came  to 
see  me  her  coachman  had  orders  to  be  at 
Mrs.  Mayo's  disposal,  to  take  the  children 
for  a  drive,  while  Sallie  and  I  sat  and  talked 
about  everything  except  why  she  had  em 
barked  upon  this  venture.  I  was  sure  there 
was  something  in  it  which  must  be  kept  out 
of  sight,  because  Sallie  never  would  talk 
about  them. 

9 


130         THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF   AN    OLD    MAID 

I  noticed  that  whenever  Frank  was  away 
from  home — which  grew  more  and  more  fre 
quent — an  invitation  was  sure  to  come  for  the 
Mayos  from  Sallie.  But  Nellie  never  accept 
ed  without  him,  whether  from  pride  or  timid 
ity  I  could  not  then  determine,  and  all  Sal- 
lie's  efforts  to  persuade  her  were  unavailing. 

It  was  such  an  unusual  proceeding  in 
Mrs.  Payson  Osborne  to  seek  out  any  one 
that  it  excited  my  wonder.  But  she  was 
not  to  be  balked  by  anything ;  moreover,  I 
had  great  faith  in  her  motives,  which  were 
sound  and  good,  even  if  her  plans  of  carry 
ing  them  out  inclined  to  the  frivolous. 

But  all  at  once  her  frivolity  seemed  to 
reach  a  climax.  She  issued  invitations  for 
a  lawn  fete,  to  be  followed  by  a  very  private, 
very  select  dinner,  after  which  came  the  co 
tillon.  She  had  decorators  from  New  York, 
and  otherwise  ordered  the  most  extravagant 
setting  for  her  entertainment.  This  might 
not  seem  unusual  to  every  one,  but  with  us, 
who  are  accustomed  to  extracting  our  en 
joyment  from  one  party  at  a  time,  this 
seemed  rather  a  superb  affair.  Pet  Winter- 
botham  was  almost  wild  with  delight. 


THE  MADONNA   OF   THE   QUIET  MIND  131 

"Only  think,"  she  cried,  "she  has  asked 
Jack  and  me  to  lead  the  cotillon !  Isn't 
that  sweet  of  her  ?  Oh,  I  do  think  she  is 
the  dearest  thing !  Though  I  must  say 
I'd  rather  have  been  asked  to  the  dinner. 
That's  going  to  be  perfectly  elegant.  I 
heard  it  was  to  be  given  for  somebody,  but 
I  don't  know  who  it  could  be.  It  might  be 
for  Frankie  Taliaferro.  Mrs.  Osborne  has 
asked  her  to  come  up  for  it." 

Pet's  remarks  rushed  on  until  I  soon 
found  myself  carried  along  the  tide  of  her 
enthusiasm,  which  she  assured  me  was 
shared  by  every  girl  in  town. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  Sallie's 
success.  The  weather,  the  people,  fortune 
itself,  was  in  her  favor,  and  the  whole  after 
noon  was  admirable.  I  confess,  however, 
that  it  was  with  some  slight  curiosity  that  I 
awaited  the  dinner. 

Sallie's  cheeks  were  flushed  and  her  eyes 
shone  with  an  unusual  brilliancy  as  she 
greeted  us,  but  the  proverbial  feather  would 
have  felled  any  one  of  her  guests  when  Pay- 
son  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Frank  Mayo, 
who  rose  out  of  a  shadowy  corner  in  a  high- 


132        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

throated  gown  and  led  us  to  the  dining- 
room.  I  caught  Sallie's  eye  as  she  laid  her 
hand  on  Frank  Mayo's  arm,  and  she  gave 
me  a  comical  look,  half  imploring,  half  de 
fiant. 

I  was  guilty  of  wondering  if  Sallie  had 
been  demented  when  she  planned  that  din 
ner-table,  for  this  is  the  way  we  found  our 
selves  : 

Next  to  Frank  Mayo  came  Alice  Asbury, 
encased  in  freezing  dignity.  Brian  Beck, 
at  his  worst,  supported  her  on  the  other 
hand.  After  Brian  were  Louise  King  and 
Charlie  Hardy,  both  looking  to  my  prac 
tised  eyes  exceedingly  stiff  and  uncomfort 
able.  I  had  no  time  to  wonder  if  the  blow 
had  fallen,  in  casting  a  glance  at  the  other 
guests.  Nellie  Mayo  was  admirably  situ 
ated  between  Charlie  Hardy  and  Payson 
Osborne,  both  of  whom  were  deference  it 
self  to  her.  The  difference  in  her  simple 
attire  from  the  full  dress  all  around  her  in 
no  wise  disturbed  her  unworldly  spirit.  She 
looked  with  quiet  admiration  at  the  hand 
some  shoulders  of  Louise  and  Rachel,  evi 
dently  never  dreaming  that  the  babies' 


THE   MADONNA   OF   THE   QUIET   MIND 


133 


mother  might  be  expected  to  follow  their 
example  in  dress. 


Grace  Beck,  sitting  by  Norris  Whitehouse, 
would  have  an  excellent  opportunity  of  ce 
menting  or  breaking  off  the  prospective 
match,  which  as  yet  was  unannounced,  be 
tween  her  sister  and  his  nephew.  Rachel 
would  be  polite,  but  not  wildly  entertaining, 
to  Asbury ;  but  he  could  count  on  me  to  "be 


134        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

decent  to  him,  while  I  snatched  crumbs  of 
intellectual  comfort  from  Percival  on  my 
other  hand.  But  Sallie  had  placed  the  fu 
nereal  Clinton  Frost  between  that  rattle- 
pated  Frankie  Taliaferro  and  her  lively  self, 
probably  with  the  laudable  intention  of  see 
ing  whether  his  face  would  be  permanently 
disfigured  by  a  smile.  Nor  was  the  poor 
wretch  out  of  Brian  Beck's  reach,  but  was 
made  the  objective  point  of  Brian's  liveliest 
sallies,  the  hero  of  his  most  piquant  and  im 
possible  stories,  which  convulsed  us  until  I 
felt  sure  that  the  irritated  Mr.  Frost  must 
cherish  a  secret  but  lively  desire  to  punch  his 
head.  Possibly  Brian  was  the  only  one  who 
thoroughly  enjoyed  himself  at  that  ill-starred 
dinner,  for  he  is  keen  on  the  scent  of  a  pre 
carious  situation  which  is  liable  to  involve 
everybody  in  total  collapse.  In  this  in 
stance  he  seemed  to  snuff  the  battle  from 
afar  and  stirred  up  all  the  slumbering  ele 
ments  of  discord  with  unctuous  satisfaction ; 
and  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  wicked  twin 
kle  in  his  Irish  blue  eyes,  which  none  of  his 
victims  could  withstand,  it  might  have  re 
sulted  seriously.  He  gayly  rallied  Charlie 


THE  MADONNA  OF  THE  QUIET  MIND          135 

Hardy  on  his  flirtations ;  predicted  seeing 
him  yet  brought  up  with  a  round  turn  in  a 
breach-of-promise  case ;  seemed  highly  edi 
fied  by  Frankie  Taliaferro's  efforts  to  appear 
unconcerned  at  these  pleasantries ;  railed 
openly  at  Clinton  Frost's  being  so  unre 
sponsive  to  the  general  mirth  around  him; 
shivered  visibly  at  that  gentleman's  icy  re 
torts  ;  playfully  called  attention  to  his  wife's 
endeavors  to  frown  him  into  silence ;  and,  in 
spite  of  Sallie's  angry  glances,  really  saved 
her  dinner  from  proving  a  dismal  failure. 
Indeed,  the  cases  were  too  real,  and  too 
much  genuine  misery  was  concealed  behind 
impassive  faces,  not  to  prove  a  dangerous 
situation,  the  tension  of  which  was  relieved 
by  Brian's  extravagant  nonsense.  Perci- 
val  and  Norris  Whitehouse  were  sincerely 
amused  by  the  wit  in  which  Brian  clothed 
his  droll  remarks.  But  the  greatest  mis 
fortune  of  the  dinner-giver  was  realized  in 
Frank  Mayo,  the  man  who  thinks  he  can 
tell  a  good  story.  The  Mayos  were  so  new 
to  all  of  us  that  this  peculiarity  was  not  sus 
pected  until  Brian  discovered  it  and  dragged 
it  forth.  He  persuaded  Frank  to  talk,  lis- 


I3&        THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

tened  with  absorbing  interest  to  the  flat 
test  tales,  encouraged  him  if  he  flagged,  and 
laughed  until  the  tears  came  if  he  by  chance 
forgot  or  slurred  a  point. 

However,  no  one  seemed  to  think  that 
there  was  anything  seriously  amiss  except 
Sallie,  who  is  a  human  barometer  when  she 
has  guests.  She  knows  by  instinct  when 
they  are  or  are  not  being  entertained.  Nor 
was  her  tact  at  fault  in  seating  the  people, 
for  I  was  the  only  one  laden  with  almost 
unbearable  knowledge,  and  I  fell  asleep  that 
night  thinking  that  possibly  the  situation 
was  not  so  unusual  as  it  appeared  to  me.  I 
dare  say  plenty  of  dinners  are  given  with 
just  as  many  unsuspected  trap-doors  to  sen 
sationalism. 


THE    PATHOS    OF    FAITH 

"  To  him  who  is  shod  the  whole  world  is  covered 
with  leather." 

THE  next  afternoon  I  was  resting  and 
thinking  over  the  brilliancy  of  the  Payson 
Osborne  entertainment,  when  Sallie  came  in, 
dressed  from  head  to  foot  in  black.  There 
was  not  a  suspicion  of  white  at  wrist  or 
throat.  I  was  too  startled  to  ask  a  question 
until  her  burst  of  laughter  relieved  me. 

"  You  poor  thing !"  she  cried,  "  did  I 
frighten  you  ?  But  I  am  in  mourning ;  yes, 
truly,  for  my  dinner-party.  Ruth,  Ruth, 
what  was  the  matter  with  it  ?" 

"Why,  nothing.  It  was  exquisitely  served, 
and  oh,  Sallie,  your  lawn  fete  and  the  co 
tillon  were  beautiful.  They  were  perfect. 
Truly,  you  do  give  the  most  successful  en 
tertainments  in  town." 


138        THE    LOVE   AFFAIRS    OF    AN    OLD    MAID 

"  Certainly — why  shouldn't  I,"  said  Sallie 
sharply,  "  when  I  have  never  done  anything, 
anything  all  my  life  but  go  to  parties  and 
study  how  to  give  them  ?  Oh,  Ruth,  dear,  I 
do  get  so  tired  of  it  all.  But,"  taking  on  a 
brisker  tone,  "  all  the  more  reason  why  I 
should  never  give  such  a  sad  affair  as  that 
dinner.  That  dinner,  Ruth,  was  what  Brian 
Beck  calls  a  howling  failure.  Payson  never 
criticises  anything  that  I  do,  but  even  he 
came  to  me  quite  gingerly  this  morning, 
after  I  had  read  what  the  papers  had  to  say 
about  it,  and  said,  '  My  dear  child,  what  was 
the  matter  with  your  tea-party  ?'  Now,  let 
us  admit  the  success  of  the  other  two,  and 
weep  a  little  in  a  friendly  way  over  the  '  tea- 
party/'  " 

"  I  had  a  lovely  time — "  I  began,  but 
Sallie  interrupted  me. 

"  Hypocrite !"  she  cried  vehemently.  "  You 
know  you  didn't.  Your  eyes  were  as  big  as 
turkey  platters  with  apprehension." 

"  My  dear  Sallie,"  I  expostulated. 

"  Don't  you  dare  put  on  airs  with  me, 
then,"  she  said  mutinously.  "  Now,  what 
ailed  them  all?  It  couldn't  have  been  the 


THE  PATHOS  OF   FAITH  139 

advent  of  the  Mayos.  I've  launched  more 
ticklish  craft  than  they.  Nor  could  it  have 
been  that  abominable  Brian  Beck,  who  would 
spoil  Paradise  and  be  the  utter  ruin  of  a 
respectable  funeral.  Every  one  seemed  to 
conspire  to  make  my  dinner  a  failure." 

"  Oh,  Sallie,  I  think  Percival  especially 
exerted  himself.  He  was  in  his  most  ex 
quisite  mood." 

"  Oh,  Percival,  of  course.  He  must  have 
suspected  that  something  was  going  wrong. 
Did  you  ever  notice,  when  he  talks,  how 
Rachel  turns  her  head  away  ?  But  you  can 
see  the  color  creep  up  into  her  face.  She  is 
too  proud  and  shy  to  let  people  see  how 
much  she  cares  for  him.  But  when  she 
speaks  Percival  looks  at  her  with  all  his 
eyes,  and  positively  leans  forward  so  that  he 
shall  not  miss  a  word.  I  love  to  watch 
those  two.  Sometimes  when  I  have  been 
with  them  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  to 
church." 

"  Then,  too,  Payson's  manner  to  Nellie 
Mayo  was  the  most  chivalric  thing  I  ever 
saw.  He  treated  her  as  if  the  best  in  the 
land  were  not  too  good  for  her." 


140        THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

"  Nor  is  it,"  said  Sallie  warmly. 

4<  I'm  glad  you  think  so.  What  a  sweet,  un 
worldly  spirit  she  has  !  Almost  any  woman 
would  have  been  distressed  because  of  her 
gown ;  but  she  was  so  superior  to  her  dress, 
with  that  uplifted  face  of  hers,  that  I  felt 
ashamed  to  think  of  it  myself.  You  gave  her 
a  rare  pleasure  last  night,  for  she  never  meets 
clever  men  and  women.  The  Percivals  and 
Mr.  Whitehouse  delighted  her,  and  you  saw 
how  well  she  sustained  her  part  of  the  con 
versation.  You  see  she  thinks,  if  she  doesn't 
have  time  to  study.  She  was  particularly 
fortunate  in  having  Payson  to  take  her  out, 
for  he  has  a  faculty  of  putting  people  at  their 
ease.  Do  you  know,  Sallie,  Payson  Osborne 
has  come  out  wonderfully  since  you  married 
him.  He  is  more  thoughtful,  more  consid 
erate,  and  his  manners  always  have  been  so 
good.  I  declare,  last  night  I  caught  him 
looking  at  you  in  a  way  which  made  me 
quite  fond  of  him." 

"  I'm  fond  of  him  myself,"  said  Sallie  can 
didly.  "  He  undoubtedly  is  a  dear  old 
thing,  and  he  is  tremendously  good  to  me. 
By  the  way,  did  you  notice  how  red  Frankie 


THE   PATHOS   OF   FAITH  14! 

Taliaferro's  eyes  were  last  night  ?  She  had 
the  toothache,  poor  girl.  It  came  on  quite 
suddenly  just  before  dinner,  and  it  alarmed 
me  for  fear  she  couldn't  appear.  Just  be 
fore  dinner  I  was  naming  over  the  way  the 
people  were  to  go  in,  and  I  said  that  I  had 
to  put  engaged  people  together  and  sepa 
rate  husbands  and  wives,  after  the  manner 
of  real  life,  and  Payson  asked  if  I  was  sure 
Louise  King  and  Charlie  Hardy  were  en 
gaged,  and  I  said  yes,  although  it  never  had 
been  announced,  and  just  then  Frankie  burst 
into  tears.  It  was  a  suspicious  time  for  cry 
ing,  especially  as  that  egregious  flirt  had 
paid  her  a  great  deal  of  attention ;  but 
Frankie  would  tell  me,  I  am  sure,  and  then 
she  really  had  been  to  the  dentist's  that 
morning.  So  I  gave  her  something  for  it 
which  she  said  cured  it.  I  was  so  vexed  at 
her  for  making  her  eyes  red,  for  her  blue 
dress  brought  it  out.  If  she  had  been  cry 
ing  over  the  other,  she  might  have  spared 
her  tears,  for  I  don't  believe  Charlie  and 
Louise  are  engaged.  I  think  they  have 
quarrelled,  for  when  Charlie  offered  his 
arm  to  Louise,  she  looked  up  with  that  way 


142        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

she  has  of  throwing  her  head  back,  and  I 
declare  to  you,  Ruth,  I  saw,  I  positively 
saw,  forked  lightnings  shoot  from  her  eyes. 
They  blazed  so  I  was  afraid  they  would  set 
his  tie  on  fire.  As  for  Charlie,  he  turned 
first  green,  then  magenta,  then  a  rich  and 
lively  purple.  I  give  you  my  word  they  did 
not  speak  to  each  other  during  that  din 
ner,  nor  would  Louise  stay  to  the  cotillon. 
Charlie  danced  it  with  Frankie.  Nice  state 
of  affairs,  isn't  it  ?" 

I  felt  myself  grow  weak.  But  Sallie  pro 
ceeded  gayly :  "  Then  you  know  how  hard 
I  have  tried  to  propitiate  those  miserable 
Asburys.  I  declare,  I  think  Alice  might 
meet  me  half  way.  Perhaps  she  didn't  like 
being  seated  between  Frank  Mayo  and 
Brian  Beck,  but  both  she  and  that  awful 
Frost  man  sat  as  stiff  and  unsmiling  as  if 
they  had-  swallowed  curtain -poles  by  the 
dozen."  Sallie  does  not  mind  an  extra 
word  or  two  to  strengthen  a  simile.  I  tried 
to  imagine  Alice  and  Mr.  Frost  gulping 
down  the  articles  Sallie  mentioned,  but  mine 
was  no  match  for  Sallie's  nimble  fancy  and 
I  gave  it  up.  "  I  do  hope  that  Pet  Winter- 


THE   PATHOS   OF   FAITH  143 

botham  will  not  marry  that  man.  I  should 
as  soon  see  her  led  to  the  altar  by  a  satin- 
lined  casket.  I  had  to  invite  him  when  I 
found  that  Frankie  could  come.  Wasn't 
Brian  Beck  dreadful,  and  didn't  you  think 
you  would  go  to  sleep  under  Frank  Mayo's 
stories  ?  And  didn't  Grace  Beck's  airs  with 
Mr.  Whitehouse  amuse  you  ?  Oh,  she  will 
hold  that  head  of  hers  so  high  if  Pet  mar 
ries  Jack.  How  bored  Asbury  looked,  didn't 
he  ?  So  selfish  of  him  not  to  pretend  to  be 
pleased.  Even  Rachel  vexed  me  by  not 
being  nicer  to  Asbury.  I  declare,  Ruth,  I 
was  so  irritated  at  the  queer  way  every  one 
acted,  I  felt  as  if  it  would  be  a  relief  to 
make  faces  at  them,  instead  of  beaming  on 
them  the  hospitable  beam  of  a  hostess.  I 
wonder  how  they  would  have  liked  it." 

"They  might  have  considered  it  rather 
unconventional  perhaps." 

Sallie  smiled  absent-mindedly,  pressed 
her  hand  to  her  flushed  cheek,  looked  over 
towards  the  Mayo  house,  and  then,  meeting 
my  inquiring  glance,  dropped  her  eyes  in 
confusion. 

"  Well,"  I  said  tentatively. 


144        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

Sallie  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  put  her 
hands  behind  her  head,  and  closed  her  eyes. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said  dreamily,  "  why  I 
ever  attempt  to  do  things.  Why  can't  peo 
ple  let  me  alone,  and  why  don't  I  let  them 
alone  ?  Most  of  all,  why  do  I  ever  try  to 
keep  a  secret  ?" 

I  knew  then  that  she  had  been  rattling 
on  because  her  mind  was  full  of  something 
else.  I  don't  believe  she  knew  half  that 
she  had  said.  Presently  to  my  surprise  I 
saw  a  tear  steal  down  her  cheek. 

"  O  Sallie  !"  I  exclaimed,  now  really  wor 
ried,  "  what  is  it  ?" 

"  I'll  tell  you,  Ruth,  for  you  are  the  only 
one  who  seems  really  to  know  and  love  that 
dear  little  Nellie  Mayo  and  those  blessed 
babies.  Ruth,  there  is  a  Damocles  sword 
hanging  over  that  nest  of  birds,  and  it  is 
liable  to  fall  at  any  moment.  Oh,  it  has 
weighed  on  my  heart  like  lead  ever  since  I 
discovered  the  secret.  I  know  you  don't 
like  Frank  Mayo,  but  you  will  despise  him 
when  I  tell  you  the  mischief  he  is  up  to, 
and  that  poor  little  wife  of  his  trusting  him 
as  if  he  were  an  archangel.  Oh,  he  is 


THE   PATHOS   OF   FAITH  145 

common,  Ruth,  and  horrid,  and  if  it  is  ever 
found  out  it  will  kill  Nellie.  But  he  is  car 
rying  on  dreadfully  with  a  soubrette  in  New 
York.  He  is  wasting  his  money  on  her — 
and  you  know  he  has  none  to  spare — and 
seems  to  be  infatuated  with  her ;  while  she, 
of  course,  is  only  using  him  to  advertise  her 
self.  In  fact,  that  is  how  I  found  it  out. 
Payson  is  in  a  syndicate  which  is  trying  to 
buy  one  of  those  up-town  theatres  in  New 
York  and  turn  it  into  something  else ;  I  for 
get  just  what  they  want  to  do  with  it,  but  any 
way,  he  came  in  contact  with  the  manager 
of  the  theatre  where  this  woman  was  play 
ing.  He  gave  them  a  dinner  and  afterwards 
they  occupied  his  box,  and  while  this  wom 
an  was  on  the  stage  her  manager  told  how 
some  man  was  causing  nightly  sensations  by 
the  flowers  he  sent  her,  and  he  said  that  he — 
her  manager — thought  he  would  have  it  writ 
ten  up  for  the  papers  to  advertise  her  before 
she  started  out  on  her  tour.  He  said  the 
man  was  making  a  fool  of  himself,  but  the 
actress  didn't  care,  and  when  he  pointed 
out  the  fellow  to  them,  Payson  saw  to  his 
horror  that  it  was  Frank  Mayo.  He  didn't 


146        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

say  a  word  before  the  other  gentlemen,  but 
the  next  day  he  went  to  the  manager  and 
begged  him  to  advertise  the  woman  in  some 
other  way.  He  told  him  who  Frank  was 
and  all  about  his  poor  little  wife  and  the 
children,  and  the  manager,  who  seems  to  be 
a  good-hearted  man,  said  it  was  a  shame  and 
promised  not  to  allow  it.  He  even  went  so 
far  as  to  offer  to  speak  to  the  actress  her 
self  and  request  her  to  refuse  to  be  inter 
viewed  on  the  subject.  So  Payson  came 
home  quite  relieved.  But  the  next  time 
he  saw  the  manager  Payson  asked  him  how 
things  were  going,  and  he  said  worse  than 
ever  as  far  as  Frank  himself  was  concerned, 
and  he  added  that  when  he  mentioned  the 
subject  to  the  actress  she  tossed  her  head 
and  said  Mayo  must  take  care  of  himself. 

"Then  I  thought  I  would  do  what  I  could 
to  introduce  him  into  society  here,  for  you 
know  he  is  ambitious  in  that  line,  and  per 
haps  I  might  get  him  away  from  the  creat 
ure.  So  I  gave  that  whole  thing  yesterday 
for  the  Mayo  family,  with  what  result  you 
know,  except  that  I  haven't  told  you  that 
the  presumptuous  dolt  made  love  mawkishly 


THE   PATHOS   OF   FAITH  147 

to  me  all  the  evening.  Yes,  actually !  Did 
you  ever  hear  of  such  impertinence?  Oh, 
the  man  is  simply  insufferable,  Ruth. 

"  Now,  what  I  am  constantly  afraid  of  is 
that  it  will  get  into  the  papers  after  all.  I 
read  them,  I  fairly  study  them,  so  that  it 
shall  not  escape  me ;  but,  if  it  does  come 
out,  what  shall  we  do  for  Nellie  ?  It  will 
break  her  heart." 

I  looked  at  Sallie  with  gnawing  conscience 
that  I  had  ever  called  her  lawn  fete  the 
climax  of  frivolity.  The  dear  little  soul ! 
who  would  have  suspected  that  she  had 
such  a  worthy  motive  for  her  ball  ?  But,  do 
you  know,  sometimes  in  fashionable  life  we 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  simple-minded,  home 
ly  kindliness  which  we  are  taught  to  believe 
exists  only  among  horny-handed  farmers, 
rough  miners,  and  hardy  mountaineers. 

"  Sallie,  dear  child,"  I  said,  "  I  beg  your 
pardon  for  not  knowing  how  noble  you  are." 

"  Noble  ?  I  ?  Sallie  Cox  ?  Now,  nobody 
except  Payson  ever  hinted  at  such  a  thing, 
and  I  hushed  him  up  instantly.  No,  Ruth, 
it  was  nothing.  I  dare  say  Rachel  or  you 
would  have  thought  of  some  grand  project 


148        THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

which  would  have  been  effectual,  but  / 
couldn't  think  of  anything  to  do  but  to 
tickle  his  vanity  by  making  him  the  guest 
of  honor  at  the  best  affair  of  the  season." 

"  Indeed,  I  think  neither  Rachel  nor  I 
could  have  thought  of  anything  so  sure  to 
captivate  a  shallow  mortal  like  Frank  Mayo." 

"  Set  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief,"  said  Sallie 
merrily.  "  I'm  shallow  myself,  /knew  how 
it  would  feel  to  have  such  a  fine  thing  given 
for  me.  My  dear,  if  the  ball  were  only  fine 
enough  it  would  cure  a  broken  heart." 

"  Not  if  the  heart  were  really  broken, 
Sallie." 

"  Well,  you  must  admit  that  it  would  help 
some,"  she  said  whimsically. 

And  so  she  went  away  and  left  the  burden 
upon  me.  Then  I,  too,  fell  to  devouring 
the  papers,  as  I  knew  Sallie  was  doing  with 
me.  I  went  more  than  ever  to  the  little 
brown  house  which  lay  in  such  peril,  and  I 
never  saw  Nellie  with  a  paper  in  her  hand 
that  I  did  not  shudder. 

At  last  the  thing  we  so  dreaded  came 
to  pass.  In  the  evening  paper  there  was 
quite  a  sensational  account  of  it.  Thank 


THE   PATHOS   OF  FAITH  149 

Heaven,  no  name  was  given ;  but  alas,  the 
description  of  him,  of  his  wife  and  five  little 
children,  was  unmistakable.  I  felt  as  though 
I  had  sat  still  and  watched  a  cat  kill  a  bird. 
It  was  raining,  not  hard,  but  drearily,  and 
the  dead  leaves  fluttered  against  the  win 
dows  as  the  chill  wind  blew  them  from 
where  they  clung.  I  was  lonesome,  and  the 
autumn  evening  intensified  my  feelings.  I 
glanced  over  to  where  a  red  glow  came  from 
Nellie's  windows.  I  fancied  her  sitting  there 
with  the  paper  in  her  hand,  as  she  always 
did  in  the  one  spare  moment  of  her  busy 
day,  with  her  heart  crushed  by  the  news. 
She  would  be  alone,  too,  for  Frank  was  out 
of  town.  Poor  child !  Poor  child !  I  started 
up  and  decided  to  go  and  see  her.  If  she 
didn't  want  me  I  could  come  back,  but  what 
if  she  did  want  me  and  I  was  not  there  ? 

I  found  her  sitting,  as  I  had  expected, 
alone.  The  paper,  with  the  fatal  page  up 
permost,  lay  in  her  lap,  as  if  she  had  read 
it  and  laid  it  down.  There  was  only  the 
firelight  in  the  room. 

"  Come  in,  dear,"  she  said  gladly.  "  I 
was  just  thinking  of  you  and  wondering  if 


150        THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN    OLD   MAID 

such  weather  did  not  make  you  blue.  Sit 
down  here  by  the  fire.  It  was  sweet  of  you 
to  come  in  the  rain." 

She  searched  my  distressed  face  anxiously 
as  she  spoke.  I  made  no  reply.  My  heart 
was  too  full  at  being  comforted  when"  I  had 
come  to  comfort.  As  I  sat  on  a  low  stool 
at  her  side  she  seemed  to  divine  my  mood, 
for  she  drew  my  head  against  her  knee  with 
a  mother  touch,  and  threaded  my  hair  with 
a  mother  hand,  and  pressed  down  my  eye 
lids  as  I  have  seen  her  do  when  she  puts 
her  baby  to  sleep.  And  though  she  must 
have  felt  the  tears  come,  she  did  not  appear 
to  know. 

"Dear  Ruth,"  she  said,  "I  have  been 
sitting  here  thinking  about  you,  and  won 
dering  if  you  were  satisfied,  such  a  loving 
heart  as  you  have,  to  face  the  rest  of  your 
life  without  the  love  you  deserve.  You 
won't  be  vexed  with  me  for  speaking  of  it 
to  you,  for  you  know  I  am  so  old-fashioned 
that  I  think  love  is  the  only  thing  in  this 
world  worth  having.  It  is  all  that  I  live 
for.  Of  course  my  children  love  me,  but, 
until  they  grow  older,  theirs  is  only  an  in- 


THE  PATHOS   OF   FAITH  151 

stinctive  love.  It  isn't  like  the  love  of  a 
husband,  which  singles  you  out  of  all  the 
other  countless  women  in  the  world  to  be 
his  and  only  his  forever.  There  is  power 
enough  in  that  thought  to  nerve  the  weakest 
woman  to  do  a  giant's  task.  The  mere  fact 
that  you  are  all  in  all,  the  only  woman,  to  the 
man  you  so  dearly  love,  the  one  person  who 
can  make  his  world  ;  when  you  think  that 
your  being  away  from  one  meal  or  out  of 
the  house  when  he  comes  in  will  make  him 
miss  you  till  his  heart  aches — this  will  keep 
down  a  moan  of  pain  when  it  is  almost  be 
yond  bearing,  for  fear  it  might  cause  him  to 
suffer  with  you ;  it  will  nerve  you  to  stand  up 
and  smile  into  his  eyes  when  you  are  ready 
to  drop  with  exhaustion.  Love,  such  as  a 
husband's  love  for  his  wife,  is  the  most  pre 
cious,  the  most  supporting  thing  a  woman 
can  have.  You  never  hear  me  talk  much 
about  my  husband,  but  he  is  all  this  and 
more  to  me.  I  cannot  begin  to  tell  you 
about  it.  I  read  about  unhappy  marriages 
— why,  I  read  a  dreadful  thing  to-night  in  the 
paper,  which  set  me  to  thinking  how  safe 
and  happy  I  am,  and  how  thankful  I  ought 


I$2        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

to  be  that  I  can  trust  my  husband  so.  It 
was  about  a  man  who  was  unfaithful  to  his 
wife,  and  they  had  five  children  just  as  we 
have.  I  know  such  things  do  occur,  but 
how  or  why  is  a  mystery  to  me.  I  hope  I 
am  not  too  hard  when  I  say  that  in  such  a 
case  it  must  be  the  wife's  fault.  Surely  if 
she  had  been  a  good  wife,  an  unselfish  and 
loving  wife,  he  could  not  have  been  enticed 
away.  Poor  thing !  I  wonder  how  she  felt 
when  she  heard  it.  Probably  she  wouldn't 
believe  it.  Probably  she  had  too  much 
faith  in  him.  You  shake  your  head.  Why, 
Ruth,  you  dear  thing,  you  don't  know  any 
thing  about  it.  A  wife  couldn't  believe  such 
a  thing.  Why,  I  wouldn't  believe  it  if  told 
by  an  angel  from  heaven.  But  then  my  hus 
band  is  so  dear  to  me.  I  do  sometimes  won 
der  if  all  women  care  as  much  for  their  hus 
bands  as  I  do  for  mine.  Do  you  know,  dear, 
I  think  about  you  so  much.  I  know  that  there 
have  been  several  hearts  in  which  you  have 
reigned,  and  yet  you  have  not  cared.  But 
the  true  love,  the  right  lover,  has  not  come, 
or  you  could  not  have  passed  him  by.  He 
is  waiting  for  you ;  somewhere,  somehow, 


THE   PATHOS   OF   FAITH  153 

he  will  come  to  you,  I  am  sure,  and  you 
will  know  then  that  you  have  belonged  to 
each  other  all  this  time ;  that  this  love  has 
been  coming  down  the  ages  from  eternity 
for  just  you  two.  You  will  not  refuse  it 
then.  Why,  I  could  never  have  refused  to 
marry  Frank  when  I  found  that  I  was  as 
much  to  him  as  he  was  to  me !  He  is  so 
handsome,  so  good.  I  shall  never  cease  to 
thank  God  that  He  made  him  turn  aside  into 
the  quiet  places  to  find  me.  But,  in  spite  of 
all  this,  you  know  I  don't  think  he  is  per 
fect.  He  doesn't  care  for  books  as  much 
as  I  wish  he  did.  He  has  no  ear  for  music, 
and  he  cannot  tell  a  story  straight  to  save 
his  life,  the  dear  boy !  Love  does  not  blind 
my  eyes,  but  this  is  what  it  does  do.  It 
makes  me  overlook  in  him  what  would  an 
noy  me  in  others.  When,  at  that  beautiful 
dinner  of  Mrs.  Osborne's,  Frank  told  those 
stories  of  his  that  I've  heard  for  years,  I 
don't  think  any  one  cared  to  hear  them  ex 
cept  Mr.  Beck  and  me.  I  knew  they  were 
not  well  told,  but  it  was  my  husband  who 
was  telling  them,  and  I  could  listen  to  his 
voice,  even  if  I  couldn't  sit  next  him. 


154         THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

"  How  the  wind  blows.  Don't  you  think 
it  has  a  lonesome  sound  to-night  ?  There 
isn't  a  glimmer  of  light  from  any  of  your 
windows  yet,  and  see  what  a  lovely  glow 
this  fire  casts  all  through  the  room.  It 
makes  the  cold  walls  look  warm,  and  if  it 
makes  shadows,  it  chases  them  away  when 
it  blazes  its  brightest.  It  is  your  fault 
that  there  is  no  light  in  your  windows,  and 
your  fault  that  you  have  closed  your  heart 
against  love.  You  could  have  the  glow  that 
lights  my  house  and  my  heart  if  you  only 
would.  You  know,  dear,  I  am  not  talking 
to  you  as  a  neighbor  now  or  even  as  a 
friend,  but  as  a  woman  talks  to  a  woman 
out  of  her  inmost  heart.  It  is  only  be 
cause  I  love  you  so  and  because  I  have 
seen  you  with  my  babies  that  I  know  what 
a  home-maker  you  are.  You  seem  so  sad 
sometimes,  and  I  know  your  heart  is  wist 
ful  if  your  eyes  are  not.  How  can  you  have 
the  courage  to  shut  out  love  ?  How  can 
you  see  the  happiness  of  all  your  friends 
and  not  want  a  share  of  it  yourself  ?  Why 
do  you  cry  so,  my  dear  ?  Is  there  some  one 
you  love  ?  Has  any  trouble  come  between 


THE   PATHOS    OF   FAITH  155 

you?  No?  No?  Well,  there,  there!  It 
was  selfish  of  me  to  show  you  the  way  I 
look  at  things  and  to  try  to  make  you  dis 
satisfied.  Never  mind.  You  are  stronger 
than  I.  I  could  not  live  without  love ;  I 
should  die.  But  if  you  can,  it  may  be  that 
you  are  fulfilling  your  destiny  more  nobly 
than  many  another  who  has  more  of  what  I 
should  choose. 

"  Oh,  must  you  go  ?  Forgive  me  if  I  have 
said  what  I  should  not.  Good-night,  and 
God  bless  you,  my  dear." 


XI 

THE  HAZARD   OF  A  HUMAN   DIE 

"  The  tallest  trees  are  most  in  the  power  of  the 
wind." 

LAST  night  at  the  theatre  there  were  the 
atricals  all  over  the  house.  My  eyes  fol 
lowed  the  play  on  the  stage,  but  my  mind 
was  filled  with  the  farce  in  the  next  box 
and  with  the  tragedy  in  the  one  opposite. 

I  was  with  the  Ford-Burkes,  and,  hearing 
familiar  voices,  I  pulled  aside  the  curtain, 
and  in  the  next  box  were  the  Payson  Os- 
bornes,  Pet  Winterbotham,  and  Jack  White- 
house.  Pet  thrust  her  hand  over  the  rail 
ing  and  whispered, 

"  I'm  engaged.  Put  your  hand  here  and 
feel  the  size  of  my  ring.  You  can  get  an 
idea  of  it  through  my  glove.  I'd  take  it  off 
and  show  it  to  you,  only  I  think  it  would 
look  rather  pronounced,  don't  you  ?'' 


THE   HAZARD   OF  A   HUMAN   DIE  157 

"  Rather,"  I  assented  faintly. 

I  glanced  beyond  her  into  the  fresh  blue 
eyes  of  young  Jack  Whitehouse,  and  I  won 
dered  if  the  alert,  manly  young  fellow,  with 
his  untried  but  inherited  capabilities,  knew 
that  he  had  been  accepted  as  a  husband 
because  his  hair  curled  and  he  looked 
"chappie." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  heard  the  news, 
haven't  you  ?"  she  went  on. 

"  Nothing  in  particular.     What  news  ?" 

"  Look  across  the  house  and  you  will  see." 

Just  entering  their  box  opposite  were 
Louise  King  and  Norris  Whitehouse,  Jack's 
uncle. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked,  with  a 
wrench  at  Pet's  little  hand  which  made  her 
wince. 

"  It's  an  engagement.  Uncle  and  nephew 
engaged  the  same  season.  Isn't  it  rich? 
Think  of  Louise  King  being  my  aunt.  She 
is  only  twenty-three." 

Then  they  saw  us  and  bowed.  I  felt 
faint  as  my  mind  adjusted  itself  to  this  new 
arrangement.  I  levelled  my  glass  at  them. 

Louise,  magnificently  tall  and  handsome, 


158        THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

looked  quite  self-contained.  She  is  one  of 
the  best-bred  girls  I  know,  but  it  required  a 
stronger  imagination  than  mine  to  fathom 
what  mysterious  change  had  transformed 
her  from  the  impulsive,  loving  creature  of 
Charlie  Hardy's  story  to  this  serene-eyed 
woman,  who  had  deliberately  elected  to 
marry  at  the  funeral  of  her  own  heart. 

As  I  looked  across  at  her  during  that 
long  evening,  I  felt  that  it  was  impertinent 
to  probe  her  heart  with  my  wonderings  and 
surmises.  I  knew  instinctively  just  how 
carefully  she  was  hiding  her  hurt  from  all 
human  eyes.  I  knew  how  her  fierce  pride 
was  bearing  up  under  the  cruelty  of  it.  I 
felt  how  she  had  rushed  from  the  humilia 
tion  one  man  had  brought  her  to  the  wait 
ing  love  of  the  one  who  should  have  been 
her  first  choice  by  the  divine  right  of  nat 
ural  selection.  This  strong  man  had  loved 
her  for  years,  but  he  would  never  allow  her 
to  imperil  either  his  dignity  or  her  own.  He 
was  just  the  man  her  impulsive,  high-strung 
nature  could  accept  as  a  refuge,  beat  against 
and  buffet  if  need  be,  then  learn  to  appreci 
ate  and  cling  to. 


THE   HAZARD   OF  A   HUMAN   DIE  159 

I  had  an  impression  that  he  was  not  to 
tally  ignorant  of  the  state  of  affairs.  He 
was  older  and  wiser  than  she,  and  capable 
of  the  bravery  of  this  venture.  No,  he  was 
not  being  deceived.  I  was  sure  of  it.  Lou 
ise  was  too  high  minded  to  attempt  it.  She 
would  be  scornfully  honest  with  him.  Her 
scorn  would  be  for  herself,  not  for  him,  and 
he  had  accepted  her  joyfully  on  these  terms. 
His  daring  was  tempered  with  prudence, 
and  his  clear  vision  doubtless  forecast  the 
end.  His  insight  must  have  shown  him  that, 
with  a  girl  like  Louise,  the  rebound  from  the 
self-disdain  to  which  Charlie  Hardy's  confes 
sion  must  have  reduced  her  would  be  as  in 
tense  as  her  humiliation  had  been,  and  that 
her  passionate  gratitude  to  the  man  who 
restored  her  self-respect  would  be  bound 
less.  Not  every  man — not  even  every  man 
who  loved  her — could  do  this.  He  must 
possess  strong  nerves  who  descends  into  a 
volcano.  He  must  have  a  more  unbending 
will  who  tames  any  wild  thing;  but  what  an 
intoxicating  thrill  of  pride  must  come  to  him 
who,  having  confidence  in  his  own  powers, 
makes  the  attempt  and  succeeds. 


160       THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN    OLD   MAID 

Perhaps  if  Louise  had  been  strong  enough 
to  fight  this  cruel  battle  out  with  herself  as 
Rachel  would  have  done,  and  win  as  Ra 
chel  would  have  won,  she  might  have  been 
able  to  choose  differently.  She  might  then, 
strong  in  her  own  strength,  marry  a  man  of 
lesser  personality,  a  younger  man,  and  they 
two  could  have  adjusted  their  lives  to  each 
other  gradually.  Now  it  must  be  Louise 
who  would  be  adjusted,  and  Norris  White- 
house  was  just  the  man  to  know  the  cu 
rious  fact  that  the  more  fiery  and  impetuous 
a  woman  is,  the  more  easily,  if  she  is  in 
love,  will  she  mould  herself  to  circum 
stances.  The  more  untamed  and  unbend 
ing  she  seems,  the  more  helpless  will  she  be 
under  the  strong  excitement  of  love  or  grief. 

A  strong-minded  woman  is  easier  to  per 
suade  than  a  weak  one.  The  grander  the 
nature  the  greater  its  pliability  towards 
truth.  The  longer  I  sat  and  gazed  into  the 
opposite  box  the  clearer  it  grew  in  my  mind 
that  the  suddenness  of  this  venture  did  not 
imply  rashness,  but  serene-eyed  faith  only, 
and  such  faith  would  captivate  Louise  King 
more  than  would  love.  The  only  impossible 


THE   HAZAUD   OF   A   HUMAN   DIE  l6l 

thing  about  it  to  a  sceptical  Old  Maid  was 
that  it  was  the  man  who  was  proving  him 
self  such  a  hero,  and  who  was  upsetting  my 
favorite  theory  that  men  never  understand 
emotional  women.  Still,  it  was  not  difficult 
to  except  as  unusual  a  man  like  Norris 
Whitehouse,  and  yet  have  my  theory  hold 
good.  In  imagination  I  leaped  forward  to 
the  peaceful  outcome  of  this  turbulent  be 
ginning,  and  overlooked  the  way  which  led 
to  it.  I  found  myself  hoping,  with  pain 
ful  intensity,  that  this  venture  in  which 
Norris  Whitehouse  and  I  had  embarked 
would  prove  successful.  I  had  known  and 
loved  Louise  King  all  her  life.  I  had  loved 
her  dear  mother  before  her,  and  the  beauti 
ful  daughterhood  of  this  girl  had  always 
touched  me  as  the  highest  and  sweetest 
type  I  ever  had  known.  I  did  not  want  to 
be  the  one  to  bring  her  face  to  face  with 
her  first  great  sorrow,  although  I  dared  not 
interfere  to  less  purpose.  For 

'  "Pis  an  awkward  thing  to  play  with  souls, 

And  matter  enough  to  save  one's  own. 
Yet  think  of  my  friend  and  the  burning  coals 
We  played  with  for  bits  of  stone." 
n 


162        THE  LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD  MAID 

They  could  not  know  that  I  had  had  any 
thing  to  do  with  it ;  yet,  if  ill  came  of  it,  I 
should  blame  myself  all  the  rest  of  my  life. 

Not  long  afterwards  they  were  married 
very  quietly  and  went  away  for  a  few  weeks. 
When  they  returned  I  sought  Louise  with 
eagerness,  and  found  that  my  fears  were 
not  groundless.  I  tried  to  think  what  to 
do.  If  it  would  have  eased  matters,  I  would 
willingly  have  gone  to  her  and  confessed 
that  I  instigated  Charlie  Hardy's  confession. 
But  I  felt  that  the  root  of  the  matter  lay 
deeper  than  that,  so  I  said  nothing  that 
could  be  construed  into  an  unwelcome 
knowledge  of  her  affairs. 

In  the  short  time  which  elapsed  between 
their  return  and  the  date  set  for  their  de 
parture  for  Europe,  where  they  were  to  stay 
a  year,  I  saw  Louise  continually.  She 
sought  me  as  if  she  liked  to  be  with  me, 
although  her  eyes  never  lost  the  anxious, 
hunted  expression  which  you  sometimes 
see  in  the  eyes  of  some  trapped  wild  creat 
ure. 

It  was  a  raw  morning,  with  a  chill  wind 
blowing,  when  their  steamer  was  to  sail. 


THE  HAZARD  OF  A  HUMAN  DIE  163 

Mr.  Whitehouse,  thinking  I  might  have 
some  last  private  word  to  say  to  Louise,  skil 
fully  detached  everybody  else  and  strolled 
with  them  beyond  earshot,  but  where  his 
eyes  could  continually  rest  upon  his  wife's 
face. 

As  Louise  and  I  walked  up  and  down  I 
took  in  mine  the  small  hand  which  emerged 
from  the  great  fur  cuff  of  her  boat  cloak, 
and  gradually  its  rigidity  relaxed  under  my 
friendly  pressure.  I  remembered,  as  I  oc 
casionally  tightened  my  grasp  upon  it,  that 
my  dear  little  baby  sister  Lois,  who  was 
taken  away  from  us  before  she  outgrew 
her  babyhood,  used  to  squeeze  my  hand  in 
this  fashion,  and  when  I  asked  her  what  it 
meant,  she  invariably  said,  "  It  means  dat  it 
loves  you."  I  wondered  if  the  same  inar 
ticulate  language  could  be  conveyed  to  poor, 
suffering  Louise.  Suddenly  she  turned  to 
me  and  said, 

"You  have  thrown  something  gentle,  a 
softness  around  me  this  morning.  I  can 
feel  it.  What  is  it,  Ruth  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  dear,  unless  it  is  my  love 
for  you." 


164        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

"  It  is  something  more.  Your  eyes  look 
into  mine  as  if  you  knew  all  about  it  and 
wished  to  comfort  me." 

As  I  made  no  answer,  she  turned  and 
looked  down  at  me  from  her  superb  height. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said  quite  gently ;  "  I 
shall  not  be  angry.  Tell  me, do  you  know?" 

"Yes,  Louise,  I  know." 

She  hesitated  a  moment  as  if  she  really 
had  not  believed  it.  Then  she  said  slowly, 

"  If  any  other  person  on  earth  except  you 
had  told  me  that,  I  should  die.  I  could  not 
live  in  the  knowledge.  But  you — well,  your 
pity  is  not  an  insult  somehow." 

"  Because  it  is  not  pity,  Louise,"  I  said 
steadily.  "  There  is  a  difference  between 
pity  and  sympathy.  One  is  thrown  at  you 
— the  other  walks  with  you." 

She  only  pressed  my  hand  gratefully. 
Suddenly  she  turned  and  said  impulsively, 

"Then  you  must  know  how  utterly  wretch 
ed  I  am." 

Glancing  over  her  shoulder  I  could  see 
the  eyes  of  her  husband  fastened  upon  her 
with  an  expression  which  stirred  me  to  put 
forth  my  best  efforts. 


THE   HAZARD   OF   A   HUMAN   DIE  l6$ 

Then  it  came  over  me  how  pent-up  all 
this  intensity  of  feeling  must  be.  I  real 
ized  how  impossible  it  would  seem  to  her 
to  speak  of  it.  Taking  my  life  in  my  hand — 
for  I  was  mortally  afraid — I  rushed  in,  after 
the  manner  of  my  kind,  where  angels  fear 
to  tread. 

"  Did  you  love  him  then  so  much  ?" 

The  pupils  of  her  eyes  enlarged  until  they 
were  all  black  with  excitement.  She  caught 
both  my  hands  in  hers. 

"  Only  God  Himself  knows  how  I  loved 
him,"  she  whispered. 

I  knew  then  that  all  Charlie  had  said  was 
true,  and,  weak  coward  that  I  was,  if  I  could 
have  undone  the  past,  I  would  have  given 
him  back  to  her.  I  was  borne  away  by  a 
glimpse  of  such  love.  O  Charlie  Hardy! 
And  you  cast  this  from  you  for  a  pair  of 
blue  eyes ! 

"  How  came  you  to  love  such  a  weak 
man  ?"  I  asked  tremblingly. 

"  That  is  what  I  want  to  know.  How 
could  I  ?  How  can  girls  of  my  sort  love  so 
hopelessly  beneath  us  ?  I've  thought  and 
wondered  over  that  question  until  my  brain 


l66        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

has  almost  turned,  and  the  only  consolation 
I  find  is  that  I  am  not  the  only  one.  Other 
women,  cleverer  than  I,  have  loved  the  most 
contemptible  of  men  and  have  been  deceived 
just  as  I  was.  Oh,  if  he  or  I  had  only  died 
before  I  discovered  the  truth !  If  I  could 
have  mourned  him  honorably  and  felt  that 
my  grief  was  dignified  !  But  I  won't  allow 
myself  to  grieve  over  him.  I  tell  myself 
that  I  am  well  out  of  it  and  that  I  ought 
to  be  glad.  But  instead  of  gladness  there 
is  a  dull,  miserable  ache  in  my  heart,  which 
I  feel  even  in  my  sleep.  Not  for  him ;  I 
don't  mourn  for  him,  but  for  myself — for  my 
fallen  idols  and  my  shattered  ideals.  What 
will  such  men  have  to  answer  for  ?  I  doubt 
if  I  ever  can  believe  in  anything  human 
again." 

"  Anything  Attman,"  I  repeated  gladly. 

Louise  looked  down. 

"  He  was  not  omnipotent,"  she  said 
huskily.  "  He  ruled  my  heart  only,  not 
my  soul." 

"I  suppose  you  have  tried  to  love  your 
husband?"  I  said. 

"  Tried  ?      Oh,    Ruth,    I    have   tried    so 


THE   HAZARD   OF   A   HUMAN   DIE  167 

hard!  He  is  so  good  to  me.  He  knows 
everything.  Of  course  I  told  him.  That 
was  why  we  were  married  so  suddenly.  He 
wished  it  and  urged  such  excellent  reasons, 
and  I  had  so  much  respect  for  him  and 
his  wisdom  in  what  is  best,  that  I  married 
him.  I  thought  I  could  love  him.  I  always 
thought  that  if  I  didn't  love  —  the  other 
one — I  should  love  Norris ;  but  I  can't.  I 
believe  my  power  of  love  is  gone  forever. 
I  feel  sometimes  as  if  the  best  part  of  me 
had  been  killed — not  died  of  its  own  ac 
cord,  but  as  if  it  had  been  murdered." 

"  Poor  child  !"  I  said.  "  Why  don't  you 
talk  this  over  with  your  husband  ?" 

"  Oh,  Ruth,  how  could  I  ?" 

"  Well,  may  I  talk  to  you  ?  Will  it  hurt 
you?" 

"  Nothing  that  you  would  say  can  hurt 
me,  dear." 

"Then  let  me  say  just  this.  You  have 
been  trying  to  do  in  weeks  what  nature 
would  take  years  to  do.  In  real  life  you 
cannot  lose  your  love  and  heal  your  worse 
than  widowed  heart  and  love  anew  as  you 
would  in  private  theatricals.  You  have  out- 


168        THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

raged  your  own  delicate  sensibilities,  but 
not  with  your  husband's  consent.  He  does 
not  want  you  to  try  to  love  him.  No  good 
man  does.  He  wants  you  to  love  him  be 
cause  you  can't  help  yourself — because  it 
seems  to  your  heart  to  be  the  only  natural 
thing  to  do.  '  When  the  song's  gone  out  of 
your  life,  you  can't  start  another  while  it's 
a-ringing  in  your  ears.  It's  best  to  have 
a  bit  o'  silence,  and  out  of  that  maybe  a 
psalm  '11  come  by  and  by.'  " 

"Oh,  Ruth,  dear  Ruth,  say  that  again," 
she  cried,  turning  towards  me  with  tears  in 
her  lovely  eyes.  I  repeated  it. 

"  How  restful  to  dare  to  take  '  a  bit  o' 
silence'!" 

"  No  one  can  prevent  you  doing  so  but 
yourself.  Mr.  Whitehouse  married  you  to 
give  you  just  that,  confident  that  he  loved 
you  so  much  that  the  psalm  would  come  by 
and  by." 

"  I  believe  he  did,"  said  Louise  gently, 
with  color  rising  in  her  cheeks. 

"  Another  thing.  Don't  try  not  to  grieve. 
Don't  repress  yourself.  It  is  right  that  you 
should  mourn  over  your  lost  ideals.  Noth- 


THE   HAZARD    OF   A   HUMAN   DIE  169 

ing  on  earth  brings  more  poignant  grief  than 
that.  You  will  never  get  them  back.  Do 
not  expect  what  is  impossible.  They  were 
false  ideals,  none  the  less  beautiful  and  dear 
to  you  for  being  that,  but  truly  they  were  dis 
torted.  You  will  see  this  some  time.  You 
have  begun  to  see  it  now.  You  realize  that 
this  man  was  in  no  way  what  you  thought 
him.  You  had  idealized  him,  had  almost 
crowned  him.  Now  you  can't  help  trying 
to  invest  Mr.  Whitehouse  with  the  same  un- 
namable,  invisible  qualities.  But  no  man 
has  them.  Your  husband  is  a  thousand 
times  more  worthy  than  the  other,  yet  even 
he  does  not  deserve  worship.  Let  the  man 
do  the  crowning  if  you  can,  although  a  wom 
an  of  your  temperament  would  find  even 
that  difficult — that  which  the  most  inane 
of  women  could  accept  with  calmness  and 
a  smile.  You  have  the  magnificent  humil 
ity  of  the  truly  great.  Still  it  is  not  ap 
preciated  in  this  world.  Try  resting  for 
a  while  and  let  your  husband  love  you." 

I  knew  that  I  was  saying,  though  per 
haps  in  a  different  way,  things  which  Nor- 
ris  Whitehouse  had  urged  upon  her.  Not 


170        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

that  she  said  so.  She  would  have  regarded 
that  as  sacrilege.  But  it  was  a  look,  a  little 
trembling  smile,  which  betrayed  the  ingenu 
ous  young  creature  to  me.  I  felt  that  I  was 
in  the  presence  of  a  nature  very  fair  and  ex 
quisitely  pure.  It  was  a  sacred  feeling.  I 
almost  felt  as  if  I  ought  not  to  read  the 
signs  in  her  face,  because  she  had  no  idea 
that  they  were  there. 

"  I  have  such  horrible  doubts,"  she  said 
suddenly  with  suppressed  bitterness.  "  I 
do  not  belittle  my  love.  I  know  that  I 
loved  him  with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  and 
that  I  gave  him  more  than  most  women 
would  have  done,  because  love  means  in 
finitely  more  to  me  than  it  does  to  them. 
I  knew  all  the  time  that  I  loved  him  more 
than  he  loved  me,  but  I  did  not  care,  for  I 
believed,  blind  as  I  was,  that  we  loved  each 
other  all  we  were  capable  of  doing,  and  if  I 
had  more  love  to  give  it  was  only  because 
I  was  richer  than  he,  and  I  meant  to  make 
him  the  greater  by  my  treasure.  Now  I  feel 
that  both  I  and  my  love  have  been  wasted. 
Oh,  it  was  a  cruel  thing,  Ruth.  I  feel  so 
poor,  so  poor." 


THE   HAZARD   OF  A   HUMAN   DIE  171 

"  Louise,  you  think,  but  you  do  not  think 
rightly.  Are  you  poorer  for  having  loved 
him  ?  What  is  his  unworth  compared  with 
your  worth  ?  Isn't  your  love  sweeter  and 
truer  for  having  grown  and  expanded  ?  No 
love  was  ever  wasted.  It  enriches  the  giver 
involuntarily.  You  are  a  sweeter,  better 
woman  than  before  you  loved,  unless  you 
made  the  mistake  of  small  natures  and  let 
it  embitter  you.  You  have  no  right  to  feel 
that  it  has  been  wasted." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  she  said  doubtfully. 
"  That  is  an  uplifting  thought."  Then  she 
added  in  a  low  voice,  "  There  is  one  thing 
more.  It  is  very  unworthy,  I  am  afraid,  but 
it  is  a  canker  that  is  eating  my  heart  out. 
And  that  is  the  mortification  of  it.  Can 
you  picture  the  thing  to  yourself  ?  Can  you 
form  any  idea  of  how  I  felt  ?  It  grows  worse 
the  more  I  think  of  it." 

"  I  know,  I  know.  But,  dear  child,  there 
is  where  I  am  powerless  to  help  you.  If  I 
were  in  your  place  I  think  I  should  feel 
just  as  you  do.  It  was  a  cruel  thing.  I 
wonder  that  you  bore  it  as  well  as  you 
did." 


172        THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD  MAID 

"What!  Should  you  feel  that  way?  Then 
you  do  not  blame  me  ?" 

"  Why  mention  blame  in  connection  with 
yourself?  You  are  singularly  free  from  it. 
But  did  you  ever  consider  what  an  honor 
the  love  of  such  a  man  as  your  husband 
is  ?  Do  you  know  how  he  is  admired  by 
great  men  ?  Do  you  realize  how  he  must 
love  you,  and  what  magnificent  faith  he 
must  have  to  wish  to  marry  a  young  girl 
like  you  who  admits  that  she  does  not  love 
him  ?  If  you  never  do  anything  else  in  this 
world  except  to  deserve  the  faith  he  has  in 
you,  you  will  live  a  worthy  life." 

We  were  standing  still  now,  and  Louise 
was  looking  at  her  husband  at  a  distance 
with  a  look  in  her  eyes  which  was  good  to 
see. 

"You  never  can  love  him  as  you  loved 
the  other  one.  A  first  love  never  comes 
again.  Would  you  want  it  to  ?  When  you 
love  your  husband,  as  he  and  I  both  know 
that  you  will  do  some  time  —  perhaps  not 
soon,  but  he  is  very  patient  —  still,  I  say, 
when  you  love  him  you  will  love  him  in  a 
gentler,  truer  way." 


THE   HAZARD   OF  A  HUMAN   DIE  173 

"  Can  you  tell  me  why  such  a  bitter  ex 
perience  should  have  been  sent  to  me  so 
early  in  life  ?" 

"To  save  you  pain  later  and  to  make  of 
you  what  you  were  planned  to  be." 

Tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks  and  she 
bent  to  kiss  me,  for  the  last  mail  had  been 
put  aboard  and  we  had  only  a  moment 
more. 

What  she  whispered  in  my  ear  I  shall 
never  tell  to  any  one,  but  it  will  sweeten 
my  whole  life. 

As  we  went  towards  Mr.  Whitehouse 
Louise  involuntarily  quickened  her  pace  a 
little  and  held  out  her  hand  to  him  with  a 
smile.  It  was  good  to  see  his  face  change 
color  and  to  view  the  quiet  delight  with 
which  he  received  her. 

Then  there  were  good-byes  and  hurried 
steps  and  a  great  deal  of  shouting  and 
hauling  of  ropes,  and  there  were  waving  of 
hands  and  a  tossing  of  roses  from  the  decks 
above  and  a  few  furtive  tears  and  many 
heart-aches,  and  then  —  the  great  steamer 
had  sailed. 


XII 

IN  WHICH  I  WILLINGLY  TURN  MY  FACE  WESTWARD 

"Grow  old  along  with  me. 

The  best  is  yet  to  be, 

The  last  of  life,  for  which  the  first  was  made. 
Our  times  are  in  His  hand 
Who  saith,  '  A  whole  I  planned, 
Youth  shows  but  half  ;  trust  God,  see  all,  nor  be 
afraid.' " 

THE  years  cannot  go  on  without  destroy 
ing  the  old  landmarks,  and  I  am  so  old- 
fashioned  that  change  of  any  kind  saddens 
me.  People  move  away,  strangers  take  their 
houses,  the  girls  marry,  children  grow  up, 
and  everything  is  so  mutable  that  some 
times  my  cheerfulness  has  a  haze  to  it. 

I  am  in  a  mood  of  retrospection  to-night. 
I  am  living  over  the  past  and  knitting  up 
the  ravelled  ends. 

Dear  Rachel !  I  am  thankful  that  she 
and  Percival  continue  so  happy.  It  is  won- 


I   TURN   MY   FACE   WESTWARD  175 

derful  how  every  one  recognizes  and  speaks 
of  the  completeness  of  these  two.  They 
do  not  parade  their  affection.  They  seem 
rather  to  try  to  hide  it  even  from  me,  as  if 
it  were  almost  too  sacred  for  even  my  kindly 
eyes.  It  is  in  the  atmosphere,  and,  though 
they  go  their  separate  ways,  they  are  more 
thoroughly  together  than  any  other  married 
people  I  know. 

Both  Percival  and  Rachel  are  becoming 
very  generally  recognized  now.  People  are 
discovering  how  wonderfully  clever  their 
work  is,  and  they  share  themselves  with  the 
public,  although  it  is  a  sacrifice  every  time 
they  do  so.  Rachel's  rather  turbulent  clev 
erness  has  softened  down.  She  says  it  is 
because  it  is  "billowed  in  another  greater 
and  gentler  sort."  She  looks  at  me  rather 
wistfully  sometimes.  I  know  what  she 
thinks,  but  she  does  not  bore  me  with  ques 
tions.  I  wonder  if  she  thinks  I  regret  any 
thing.  Unless  I  consider  that  the  Percivals 
have  redeemed  the  record  I  am  keeping, 
there  is  nothing  especially  tempting  in  the 
marriages  I  am  watching.  I  cannot  think 
that  they  are  any  happier  than  I  am. 


176        THE  LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

Sallie  Cox  seems  contented  most  of  the 
time.  She  has  a  magnificent  establishment, 
handsomer  than  all  the  rest  of  the  girls'  put 
together.  Her  husband  "doesn't  bother" 
her,  she  says,  and  the  Osbornes  are  very 
popular. 

"I'm  glad  I'm  shallow,"  she  said  to  me 
once.  "  Shallow  hearts  do  not  ache  long. 
If  I  had  a  deep  nature  I  should  go  mad  or 
turn  into  a  saint.  As  it  is,  I  wear  the  scars." 

Once,  when  I  went  with  her  to  Rachel's, 
she  sat  and  looked  around  the  simple,  inex 
pensive  house,  with  the  walls  all  lined  with 
books  and  no  room  too  good  to  live  in  ev 
ery  day,  and  she  said, 

"This  is  the  prettiest  home  I  ever  was 
in  in  my  life,  and  there  is  not  a  lace  curtain 
in  the  house !" 

We  laughed — everybody  laughs  at  Sallie 
— and  Rachel  said  gently, 

"  We  don't  need  them." 

Sallie  looked  up  quickly  and  took  in  the 
full  significance  of  the  words,  as  she  an 
swered  in  the  same  tone, 

"  No,  you  do  not,  but  I  do."  And  each 
woman  had  told  her  heart  history.  Now, 


I   TURN   MY    FACE   WESTWARD  177 

Rachel  must  know  almost  as  much  about 
Sallie  as  I  do ;  but  she  never  will  know  all. 

Sallie  said  she  went  home  and  hated  ev 
ery  room  in  her  house  separately  and  spe 
cifically  ;  then  she  had  a  good  cry  over  "  the 
perfectness  of  the  Percivals,"  and  issued  in 
vitations  to  a  masked  ball. 

"  That  ball  was  full  of  significance,  Ruth," 
she  told  me  afterwards  with  her  most  whim 
sically  knowing  look.  "It  was  bristling 
with  it.  But  nobody  thought  of  it  except  a 
certain  little  goose  I  know  named  Sara  Cox 
Osborne." 

Jack  Whitehouse  and  Pet  Winterbotham 
are  married.  They  had  the  most  beautiful 
wedding  I  ever  saw ;  but  it  was  like  watch 
ing  the  babes  in  the  wood,  for  they  are  such 
a  young-looking  pair. 

I  understand  better  now  what  Pet  meant 
when  she  talked  about  Jack's  appearance  so 
much.  I  think  he  expressed  to  her  the  idea 
of  perpetual  youth  and  eternal  spring-time. 
To  me,  too,  it  seems  as  if  he  ought  always 
to  be  yachting  in  blue  and  white,  or  lying 
at  full  length  on  the  grass  at  some  girl's 
feet.  And  Pet  herself  makes  an  admirable 


178        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

companion  -  piece.  When  I  see  her  in  a 
misty  white  ball-dress,  with  one  man  bring 
ing  her  an  ice  and  another  holding  her  flow 
ers  and  a  third  bearing  her  filmy  wraps,  I 
feel  that  things  are  quite  as  they  should  be. 
Some  people  seem  to  be  born  for  fair  weath 
er  and  smooth  sailing. 

It  is  too  soon  to  judge  them  finally.  Nor- 
ris  Whitehouse's  nephew  will  outgrow  the 
ball-room,  and  Pet  will  find  in  Louise  an 
incentive  to  grow  womanly. 

The  Asburys  have  built  a  fine  house  since 
Alice's  father  died,  and  go  about  a  great 
deal,  but  seldom  together.  Asbury  lives  at 
the  club,  and  Alice  has  her  mother  with  her. 
Alice  has  embraced  Theosophy  and  spells 
her  name  "  Alys."  She  always  is  interest 
ed  in  something  new  and  advanced,  and 
whenever  I  meet  her  I  am  prepared  to  go 
into  ecstasies  over  a  plan  to  save  men's 
souls  by  electricity,  or  something  equally 
speedy  in  the  moral  line.  She  is  daft  on 
spiritual  rapid  transit. 

She  does  these  things  because  she  is 
a  disappointed,  clever,  ambitious  woman, 
who  would  have  made  a  noble  character 


I   TURN   MY   FACE  WESTWARD  179 

if  she  had  been  surrounded  by  right  influ 
ences. 

What  would  have  been  the  result  if  Alice 
had  taken  as  her  creed  :  "  The  situation  that 
has  not  its  duty,  its  ideals,  was  never  yet 
occupied  by  man.  Yes,  here  in  this  poor, 
miserable,  hampered,  despicable  Actual, 
wherein  thou  even  now  standest,  here  or 
nowhere  is  thy  Ideal ;  work  it  out  there 
from,  and  working,  live,  be  free.  Fool ! 
the  Ideal  is  in  thyself ;  thy  condition  is  but 
the  stuff  thou  art  to  shape  that  same  ideal 
out  of ;  what  matters  whether  such  stuff  be 
of  this  sort  or  that,  so  the  form  thou  give  it 
be  heroic,  be  poetic  ?  Oh,  thou  that  pin- 
est  in  the  imprisonment  of  the  Actual  and 
criest  bitterly  to  the  gods  for  a  kingdom 
wherein  to  rule  and  create,  know  this  of  a 
truth :  the  thing  thou  seekest  is  already 
with  thee,  'here  or  nowhere,'  couldst  thou 
only  see"  ? 

Ah,  well,  she  could  not.  She  still  is 
crying  to  the  gods  and  spelling  her  name 
"  Alys."  Her  cleverness  must  have  an  out 
let,  and,  with  worse  than  no  husband  to  lav 
ish  it  upon,  she  scatters  it  to  the  four  winds 


ISO         THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

of  heaven  and  gets  herself  talked  about  as 
"queer." 

May  Brandt  has  bitten  into  her  apples  of 
Sodom,  and  the  taste  of  ashes  is  bitter  in 
deed  to  her.  She  knows  now  that  Brandt 
never  loved  her,  and  did  love  Alice.  I  do 
not  know  whether  she  thinks  he  still  cares 
for  Alice  or  not.  May  never  had  much  beau 
ty  to  lose,  but  she  looks  worn  and  unhappy, 
and  watches  Alice  with  a  degree  of  feeling 
which  would  appear  vulgar  to  me  if  I  did 
not  know  just  how  miserable  she  is.  She  is 
hopelessly  plain  now,  and  Alice  is  still  like  a 
tall,  stately  lily.  Brandt  devours  her  with  his 
eyes,  but  Alice  makes  him  keep  his  distance. 

Sallie  Cox  has  been  diplomatic  and  harm 
less  enough  to  make  Alice  forgive  her,  and 
they  are  quite  good  friends ;  but  Alice  is 
magnificent  in  her  scorn  of  Brandt's  wife, 
who  almost  cowers  in  her  presence. 

Poor  May !  I  wish  I  could  take  that  look 
of  suffering  from  her  little  pinched,  three- 
cornered  face  for  just  one  hour.  But  how 
could  I  ?  How  could  anybody  who  knew 
all  about  it  ? 

She  does  not  understand  Alice  in  all  her 


I   TURN   MY    FACE  WESTWARD  l8l 

moods  and  vagaries,  and  Alice  does  not 
condescend  to  explain  herself  even  to  her 
friends.  I  do  not  believe  that  Alice  and 
Brandt  have  ever  spoken  on  the  subject 
which  occupies  three  minds  whenever  they 
two  are  thrown  together.  Yet  I  imagine  it 
would  be  a  relief  to  May  if  she  were  told  that. 
However,  she  is  scarcely  noble  enough  to  be 
lieve  it,  even  if  Alice  herself  should  tell  her. 
But  Alice  never  will.  She  never  gives  it  a 
thought.  Brandt,  too,  has  honor,  though, 
even  if  he  had  not,  Alice  would  have  it  for 
him  and  forbid  a  word. 

It  is  a  fortunate  thing  for  some  people's 
chances  for  a  future  life  that  there  are  a  rea 
sonable  number  of  consciences  distributed 
through  the  world,  although  it  would  be  an 
Old  Maid's  suggestion  that  sometimes  they 
be  allowed  to  drive  instead  of  being  used 
as  a  liveried  tiger — for  ornament  and  al 
ways  behind.  It  is  a  great  pity  that  peo 
ple  who  are  supplied  with  them — and  well- 
cultivated  consciences  too — have  not  the 
courage  to  live  up  to  them,  but  allow  them 
selves  to  be  gently  and  feebly  miserable  all 
their  lives. 


l82        THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD   MAID 

Now,  Charlie  Hardy  has  periods  of  being 
the  most  miserable  man  I  ever  knew.  His 
last  interview  with  Louise  must  have  been 
as  serious  a  thing  as  he  ever  experienced. 
He  has  married  Frankie  Taliaferro,  and  she 
makes  the  sweetest  little  kitten  of  a  wife 
you  ever  saw.  In  Louise  he  would  have 
been  protected  by  a  coat  of  mail.  In 
Frankie  he  finds  it  turned  into  a  pale-blue 
eider-down  quilt,  which  suits  his  tempera 
ment  much  better. 

Louise  Whitehouse  is  coming  home  soon. 
Her  year  abroad  has  lengthened  into  several 
years,  and  they  have  been  the  most  beauti 
ful  of  her  life,  she  writes.  "  Living  with  a 
song  in  one's  life  may  be  the  sweetest  while 
it  lasts  and  before  one  thinks ;  but  to  live 
by  a  psalm  is  to  find  life  infinitely  more 
beautiful  and  worthier.  I  never  can  be 
thankful  enough  that  my  life  was  taken 
out  of  my  hands  at  the  time  when  I  clung 
to  it  most  blindly,  and  ordered  anew  by  One 
stronger  and  wiser  than  I." 

Tears  come  to  my  eyes  whenever  I  think 
of  this  girl.  I  do  not  quite  know  why, 
unless  it  is  that  there  always  is  something 


I   TURN   MY   FACE  WESTWARD  183 

sad  in  watching  the  tempering  of  a  bright 
young  enthusiasm,  even  though  it  becomes 
more  useful  than  when  so  sparkling  and 
high-strung. 

I  have  been  at  great  pains  to  have  Charlie 
Hardy  realize  how  happy  Louise  is,  but  his 
conscience  still  troubles  him  at  times.  He 
says  he  knows  he  did  the  right  thing  for 
every  one  concerned,  but  he  dislikes  the 
idea  of  himself  in  so  disagreeable  a  role ; 
and  Louise's  opinion  of  him  now,  after  the 
one  she  did  have,  is  a  constant  humiliation 
to  him.  Women  always  have  admired  him, 
and  he  objects  very  strongly  to  any  ex 
ception  to  the  rule.  I  think  he  misses  the 
mental  ozone  which  he  found  in  Louise.  I 
often  wonder  if  men  who  have  loved  supe 
rior  women  and  married  average  ones  do 
not  have  occasional  wonderings  and  yearn 
ings  over  lost  "  might  have  beens." 

The  Mayos  still  live  in  the  brown  house, 
which  has  been  enlarged  and  greatly  beauti 
fied  recently.  I  have  an  enthusiastic  friend 
ship  with  the  children,  who  are  growing  into 
slim  slips  of  girls  and  sturdy,  clear- eyed 
boys,  and  their  house  is  still  a  home.  Frank's 


184        THE   LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF  AN   OLD  MAID 

admiration  for  soubrettes  died  a  sudden 
and  violent  death  at  the  masked  notoriety 
of  his  initial  escapade,  and  for  a  time  he 
was  shocked  into  better  behavior.  We 
hear  odd  rumors  floating  around,  however, 
of  whose  truth  we  never  can  be  sure,  but 
which  we  shake  our  heads  over,  after  the 
fashion  of  those  whose  confidence  has  been 
caught  napping  once.  We  never  knew 
whether  Nellie  discovered  the  truth  or  not. 
If  Frank  denied  it,  it  would  not  affect  mat 
ters  with  her  if  the  world  rang  with  it.  Her 
idolatry  has  a  certain  blind  stubbornness  in 
it  which  I  should  not  care  to  beat  against. 

Bronson  does  not  stand  as  straight  as  he 
did  when  I  first  knew  him.  Rachel  says  he 
has  "a  scholarly  stoop."  But  she  knows, 
and  I  know,  that  something  besides  law- 
books  and  parchment  has  taken  the  elastic 
ity  out  of  his  step. 

Many  years  have  gone  by  since  I  became 
an  Old  Maid.  I  want  to  call  my  Alter  Ego's 
attention  to  this  fact  gently  but  firmly,  be 
cause  I  have  an  idea  that  she  still  considers 
herself  "only  thirty,"  and  that  she  thinks 
she  has  just  begun  to  be  an  Old  Maid. 


I  TURN  MY   FACE  WESTWARD  185 

Whereas  she  is  old  and  so  am  I.  I  do  not 
mind  it  at  all.  Neither  does  she  ;  it  is  only 
that  she  had  not  realized  it.  We  have  so 
much  to  think  about  more  important  than 
our  stupid  ages.  People  have  grown  used 
to  seeing  us  about,  and  we  like  the  same 
things,  and  keep  going  at  about  the  same 
pace  and  in  the  same  road,  and  I  think  we 
have  come  to  be  an  Institution. 

I  have  no  worries  which  I  do  not  borrow 
from  my  married  friends.  I  keep  up  with 
the  fashions  ;  my  clothes  fit  me  ;  my  fingers 
still  come  to  the  ends  of  my  gloves ;  I  feel 
no  leaning  towards  all-over  cloth  shoes  ;  I 
have  not  gone  permanently  into  bonnets.  I 
have  tried  to  be  a  pleasant  Old  Maid,  and 
my  reward  is  that  my  friends  make  me  feel 
as  if  they  liked  to  have  me  about.  I  am  not 
made  to  feel  that  I  am  fassL  One's  clothes 
and  one's  feelings  are  all  that  ever  make 
one  passk. 

Nevertheless,  I  have  turned  my  face  reso 
lutely  towards  the  setting  sun.  I  am  rest 
ing  now.  I  have  given  up  struggling  against 
the  inevitable.  That  is  a  privilege  and  an 
attribute  of  youth.  I  feel  as  though  I  were 


186        THE   LOVE  AFFAIRS  OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

only  beginning  to  live,  now  that  I  have 
passed  through  the  period  of  turmoil  and 
come  out  from  the  rapids  into  gently  gliding 
water.  There  is  so  much  in  life  which  we 
could  not  see  at  the  beginning,  but  which 
grows  with  our  growth  and  bears  us  com 
pany  in  the  richness  of  evening-tide.  I  have 
learned  to  love  my  life  and  to  cultivate  it. 
Who  knows  what  is  in  her  life  until  she 
has  tended  it  and  made  it  know  that  she 
expects  something  from  it  in  return  for  all 
her  aspirations  and  endeavors?  Even  my 
wasted  efforts  are  dear  to  me. 

" 'Tis  greatly  wise  to  talk  with  our  past  hours, 
And  ask  them  what  report  they  bore  to  Heaven, 
And  how  they  might  have  borne  more  welcome 
news." 

Yet  there  is  a  sadness  in  looking  back. 
I  see  the  many  lost  opportunities  lifting  to 
me  their  wistful  faces,  and  dumbly  plead 
ing  with  me  to  accept  them  and  their  prom 
ises  ;  yet  I  carelessly  passed  them  by.  I  see 
worse.  I  see  the  rents  in  the  hedge,  where 
I  forced  my  wilful  way  into  forbidden  fields, 
and  only  regained  my  path  after  weary  wan- 


I   TURN   MY   FACE   WESTWARD  187 

dering,  brier -torn,  and  none  the  better  for 
my  folly.  Lost  faces  come  before  me  which 
I  might  have  gladdened  oftener.  Voices 
sound  in  my  ear  whose  tones  I  might  have 
made  happier  if  I  would.  Withheld  sympa 
thy  rises  up  before  me  deploring  its  wasted 
treasure.  How  can  any  one  be  happy  in 
looking  back  ?  The  only  pleasure  in  look 
ing  forward  is  in  hope.  Yet  now  both  grief 
and  joy  are  tempered  with  a  softness  which 
enfolds  my  fretted  spirit  gratefully. 

"  Time  has  laid  his  hand 
Upon  my  heart  gently  ;  not  smiting  it, 
But  as  a  harper  lays  his  open  palm 
Upon  his  harp  to  deaden  its  vibrations." 

And  so  I  am  looking  forward  to-night  to 
an  old  age  more  peaceful,  less  turbulent, 
than  my  youth  has  been.  I  reach  forward 
gladly,  too,  for  life  holds  much  that  is  sweet 
to  old  age,  which  youth  can  in  no  wise  com 
prehend.  Possibly  this  is  one  reason  why 
youth  is  so  'anxious  to  concentrate  enjoy 
ment.  But  I  am  tired  of  concentration. 
There  is  a  wear  and  tear  about  it  which  pre 
cludes  the  possibility  of  pleasure.  I  want 


l88        THE  LOVE   AFFAIRS   OF   AN   OLD   MAID 

to  take  the  rest  of  my  life  gently,  and  by  re 
doubled  tenderness  repay  it  for  rude  hand 
ling  in  my  youth — that  youth  which  lies  very 
far  away  from  me  to-night  and  is  wrapped 
in  a  rainbow  mist. 


LOVE-LETTERS 

OF    A 

WORLDLY    WOMAN. 

By  Mrs.  W.  K.  CLIFFORD,  Author  of  "Aunt 
Anne,"  "  Mrs.  Keith's  Crime,"  etc.  i6mo, 
Cloth,  Ornamental,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt 
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This  volume  contains  three  brilliant  love-stories 
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audacious,  and  are  full  of  a  certain  intellectual 
"abandon"  which  is  sure  to  charm  the  cultivated 
reader.  .  .  .  We  trust  that  Mrs.  W.  K.  Clifford  will 
give  us  more  fiction  in  this  delicately  humorous,  sub 
tle,  and  analytic  vein. — Literary  World,  Boston. 

Mrs.  Clifford's  literary  style  is  excellent,  and  the 
love-letters  always  have  their  special  interest. — N.  Y. 
Times. 

There  is  abundant  cleverness  in  it.  The  situations 
are  presented  with  skill  and  force,  and  the  letters  are 
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In  short  analytical  stories  of  this  kind  Mrs.  Clifford 
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the  delicate,  ingenious,  forcible  use  of  language,  to 
express  the  results  of  an  unusual  range  of  observa 
tion,  she  stands  to  our  literature  as  De  Maupassant 
and  Bourget  stand  to  the  literature  of  France. — Black 
and  White,  London. 

The  study  of  character  is  so  acute,  the  analysis  of 
motives  and  conduct  so  skilful,  and,  withal,  the  wit 
and  satire  so  keen,  that  the  reader  does  not  tire. — 
Christian  Intelligencer,  N.  Y. 


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UNHAPPY   LOVES 

OF 

MEN    OF    GENIUS. 

By  THOMAS  HITCHCOCK.    With  Twelve  Por 
traits.     i6mo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $i  25. 

A  fascinating  book.  So  taking  are  its  rapid 
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reads  it  from  beginning  to  end  without  any 
thought  of  possible  intrusion. — Observer,  N.  Y. 

The  simple  and  perspicuous  style  in  which 
Mr.  Hitchcock  tells  these  stories  of  unhappy 
loves  is  not  less  admirable  than  the  learning 
and  the  extensive  reading  and  investigation 
which  have  enabled  him  to  gather  the  facts 
presented  in  a  manner  so  engaging.  His  vol 
ume  is  an  important  contribution  to  literature, 
and  it  is  of  universal  interest. — N.  Y.  Sun. 

The  stories  are  concisely  and  sympatheti 
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A  very  interesting  little  book. . . .  The  studies 
are  carefully  and  aptly  made,  and  add  some 
thing  to  one's  sense  of  personal  acquaintance 
ship  with  those  men  and  women  who  were 
before  not  strangers. — Evangelist,  N.  Y. 


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